


Blooming Day

by kaehdci



Category: EXO (Band), K-pop
Genre: Awkward Romance, Beaches, Comedy, Cute, Danger, Dark Comedy, F/M, Friendship, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Stranded, Suspense, Thriller
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 11:13:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 31,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28812486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaehdci/pseuds/kaehdci
Summary: Minseok plans a last-minute beach date with his crush. There are just a few problems with this plan: it’s the middle of winter, the beach is hours away, and she doesn’t actually realise it’s a date. Then his car won’t start and they’re left stranded in the middle of nowhere, with only each other for company. This could be the start of something great. Or, it could be a nightmare
Relationships: Kim Minseok | Xiumin/Original Female Character(s), Kim Minseok | Xiumin/Reader, Kim Minseok | Xiumin/You
Kudos: 5





	1. The Eve

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of creative fiction

"And then, wait a minute, where was I? Oh yeah, and then... wait, I have to go back. Let me start again-"  
This was the third time [y/n] had heard this story. That is, it was the third time she had heard it tonight. From the evil grin Sehun was giving her across the table, she imagined that it was hardly Minseok's third time to tell it. He had probably been recounting his tales of military daring to Sehun before [y/n] had been drafted in to take over. The trouble with Minseok was that it wasn't always clear that he was drunk. You had to sit next to him for a few minutes to determine how intoxicated he was, and by the time you had figured it out, he had his arm around you and was talking and there was no way out. And the problem [y/n] had was that she liked having Minseok’s arm around her, so she usually got trapped in a story cycle at the end of a night.  
"He was in the foxhole all along," she finished for him. Minseok blinked at her.  
"Yes. Have... but that's not the funny part."  
"Hyung, do you think you can leave early?" Kyungsoo asked suddenly from [y/n]'s other side. He winked at [y/n] as he said it. [y/n] blinked. What?  
"Why?" Minseok asked, frowning at him.  
"Because everyone's had a lot already. If you go now and pay on the way out, they'll stop ordering," said Kyungsoo, raising an eyebrow in [y/n]'s direction. She felt a rush of gratitude towards him. He was a good friend, frequently managing a night out like this before it got out of hand. "Are you walking back that way?" Kyungsoo asked her. [y/n] nodded hastily, and ducked out from under Minseok's arm, dragging him with her.  
"Come on," she said. "I'll walk you home."  
Sehun stood up too.  
“Do you need some help?” he asked, but [y/n] shook her head and tapped her friend on the arm as she passed.  
Minseok’s good humour had dimmed slightly between the table and the door, and when the cashier told him how much he needed to pay, he just held out his card and didn’t seem to have heard her. His unsteady gaze was fixed on the table behind them. [y/n] held out his coat and he shrugged into it.  
“You don’t need to walk with me,” he said, holding the door open for her.  
“I was done anyway,” she said. “The night wasn’t getting any better. Sehun was just one more beer away from taking out his phone to show off that photoshoot where he looks like a prince again.”  
Minseok muttered something that was drowned out by a passing car.  
“Huh?” [y/n] stepped closer to Minseok. “Did you say something?”  
“I was just… you can go back. Sehunnie wanted to walk you home.”  
“Oh,” [y/n] felt suddenly awkward. Was Minseok telling her to leave him alone? “Do you not want me to walk you home?” she asked. She was hoping he would ask her to stay. Not least because she didn’t want to go back to the bar.  
“I want you to walk with me,” said Minseok, eventually. He jammed his fists into his pockets and wouldn’t look at her. [y/n] smiled anyway.  
They were halfway back to his apartment when Minseok stumbled slightly on an uneven paving slab.  
"You shouldn't drink that much," [y/n] said, grabbing his arm. He straightened and she let go of his arm.  
“No,” he said suddenly. “Um, can you hold my arm? For balance. I might fall again.”  
She reached out and linked her arm with his. He drew her in towards his body so she was flush against him. She felt a slight thrill from the contact, as she always did whenever he touched her. They walked in comfortable silence for another block, before turning towards his building. Then he spoke up.  
"I know I shouldn’t drink that much. But the others feel more comfortable if I drink when they do," he said, smiling conspiratorially at her. Even in his state, he was adorable. "Besides," he went on, "it calms my nerves."  
"What nerves?"  
"When I'm around you," he said, his voice taking on a serious note for a second. "Sometimes I feel nervous."  
[y/n] was speechless. If he hadn't chosen that moment to politely lean over a trash can and throw up, she might have asked him what he meant, once she had recovered her voice.

[y/n] woke up the next morning and thought she was falling. She scrambled backwards, realising before she fell out of the other side of the bed that she had just left the curtains open and the drop in front of her into the city street far below was shielded by glass. It was enough to wake her properly. She sat up and looked around, taking in the sparse decoration of Minseok’s spare bedroom, his books and the hotel-fresh sheets the only indication that he ever actually came in here.  
She probably shouldn’t have stayed over, but after he threw up, Minseok grew sullen and quiet, and [y/n] was worried about him. When they got to the apartment, he didn’t ask her where she was going, so she followed him in, got him a glass of water, directed him to his bedroom, and then sat on the couch watching his TV with the volume off until the light under his door went out. She had decided to stay then because she didn’t want to walk home by herself, and in case he got sick again. It wasn’t her first time to stay at his place, but it was the first time she had stayed here on her own, without one of the others to step over on the living room floor.  
She heard someone moving about in the apartment outside and swung herself out of bed, pulling on her clothes and checking her reflection in the window glass before letting herself out.  
Minseok was in the kitchen, stirring something in a pot.  
“Ah,” he said, when he noticed her lounging against the window into the living room. “I got some coffee.” He handed her a takeaway cup without looking at her. He had noticed she was here, then. Her shoes were beside the door, and her coat was on the hook; he must have seen them if he went out to get coffee. [y/n] took a sip; vanilla latte, he knew her so well.  
“What are you doing?” she asked. It was strange to see Minseok in the kitchen like this. He was wearing a pristine apron that still had visible folds from where it had been packaged, tied carefully around his workout clothes. Had he already been to the gym? [y/n] felt instantly unfit. She wasn’t even the one with a hangover.  
“Obviously, I’m cooking breakfast,” said Minseok. [y/n] tried not to wrinkle her nose; whatever he was cooking smelled burnt… or, not burnt but overspiced.  
“What is it?”  
“Haejangguk,” he said shyly. He stirred the foul-smelling concoction uncertainly.  
“How are you feeling?” she asked, trying not to giggle a bit. He may have been for a workout already, but he still looked rough. He hadn’t looked directly at her since she came in. She wondered how much he remembered about last night, and then remembered herself what he had said to her before he had thrown up and felt her heart begin to race. She took a sip of her coffee for an excuse to cover her face.  
“I feel better than I did when I woke up,” he said. “I went for a run, and to the supermarket. I need to eat now and then I’ll be fine.”  
[y/n] busied herself setting the table, and Minseok put on some music to kill the tension that he must have felt too. The longer the silence dragged on, the more certain [y/n] was that he remembered that he had told her she made him nervous. And the fact that it was causing tension meant that it wasn’t a throwaway comment, like she had convinced herself before going to sleep last night.  
Minseok carried the dishes out of the kitchen and set them on the table, removing his apron and fetching his own coffee before joining her. [y/n] thanked him for the food and then dipped her spoon into the soup he had ladelled into her bowl.  
It was, she was relatively certain, one of the worst things she had ever eaten in her life. The broth was watery and over-spiced, and some of the vegetables hadn’t cooked through properly. The meat had been cooked, thankfully, but the rice he made in his new steamer was overdone and tacky and did nothing to improve on the soup. But she ate it all, because this was the first meal he had ever cooked for her. And he seemed, in spite of his hangover and clear discomfort, proud of himself. It was adorable how pleased he seemed about stirring his soup and tasting it, and [y/n] hid her expressions and ate as much as she could manage so that he wouldn’t be hurt.  
“I should go home,” she said, when they had both finished eating. “I need a shower.”  
“You can use the shower here,” he said quickly and then his cheeks flushed. “You don’t have to, but you could if you wanted to. There are spare toothbrushes here too, if you want one. I mean.” This was getting ridiculous, this awkwardness, but [y/n] wasn’t going to break first. They had been friends for too long for her to risk it by exposing her feelings.  
Before she could stand up and announce that she was leaving, he asked her what she was doing today. It was Saturday and coming on for mid-January. She had been thinking about cleaning her apartment and maybe going shopping later, if the weather stayed clear. She told him so, and he seemed a bit put out.  
“Oh,” he said. “Okay… I’ll drive you home, when you’re ready.” He stood up and started clearing away the bowls. He seemed about to say something else but stopped himself.  
“Why do you ask?” [y/n]’s curiosity got the better of her. “Did you- um. What are you doing today? I don’t really have any plans, I hadn’t actually thought about what I was going to do. Did you want to do something?” She was fishing now. If she had read the situation wrong, she was going to look thirsty. But what he had said last night… if she made him nervous, she wanted to know why. Specifically, she wanted to know if she made him nervous the same way he made her nervous sometimes; when he put his arm around her in the bar like it was the most natural thing in the world, or when he took her hand stepping out of a van, or stood close to her in a crowded elevator and shared his space with her, when he texted her in the morning to ask her how she slept. She wanted to know if she made his heart beat fast the way hers did whenever they made physical contact.  
He seemed to be considering his answer. When he did speak, he was a little flushed but he was smiling shyly and she felt a little thrill of hope that she wasn’t deluding herself.  
“Have you ever been to Moraedeok Beach?”  
“...um… no.” This wasn’t what she had been expecting. She had honestly been hoping he would suggest a movie. He clearly had something in mind, though.  
“If you need to go home, go and get some warm clothes and I’ll pick you up in an hour and a half. We need to drive there. Do you want to?”  
He was playing with his hands in that nervous way he had, and still wasn’t making eye contact, but [y/n] thought he looked excited. What was this beach?  
“Sure,” she said, and he finally looked at her and flashed her a toothy, uneven grin that she couldn’t help but return. 

Minseok tapped his fingers against the steering wheel nervously and glanced up at the sky again. It was still clear. He had checked the weather here and at the beach about a dozen times in the last hour, but he was still certain something would go wrong. There was no way it could be this easy. A year of dancing around the question, watching her with Sehun and trying to guess at their relationship, weighing up the pros and cons of trying to change their friendship into something more… it couldn’t be resolved as simply as just asking her to go on a date with him. She had accepted readily enough, then declined his offer to drive her home. When he called Kyungsoo after she left, to tell him he had finally asked her out and to panic at somebody else about the myriad things that could go wrong, Kyungsoo said that it was a good sign, that she wanted to go home to get ready. She wanted him to pick her up, instead of just waiting outside while she went in. He was early, he knew, but he needed this time sitting outside to steady his nerves.  
In the year since he had met [y/n], since Jongdae had introduced her to the group as a friend of his wife’s, Minseok had slowly felt himself drawn to her. She was wilful, and confident in a way that he wasn’t. She could be shy sometimes, but she had settled into his circle of friends easily, effortlessly, like she had always been there. Minseok, who constantly tortured himself over the impact of little things he would say, or what people thought about how he looked, who felt constantly that he had no control over himself, couldn’t help being attracted to someone like [y/n], who lived her life like she was the protagonist. And not just that, she didn’t treat anybody else like they were less important. He liked her. He really, really liked her. As soon as he admitted this to himself, he had avoided addressing his feelings directly. At first, it was doubt that held him back. He convinced himself early on that there was no way she would feel the same way as he did, not surrounded by the same people he was. Kyungsoo had been pushing him to ask her anyway, but he had lost his nerve every time he thought about it. He didn’t think he was the most handsome, or the funniest, or the tallest or smartest.  
In any case, he didn’t think she would feel the same as he did, so he buried his feelings. It was a couple of months before he noticed that, while she was friendly with the rest of the group and with Sehun in particular, it was towards Minseok that she generally gravitated. The last few times they had been out together, she had let him walk her home. Last night was the first time she had walked him home. When they all met up after Chuseok, she had stayed at his place. Sehun and Baekhyun had stayed too, sleeping in the living room while she took the spare bed. She had been up first the next morning, though. When he saw her, hair soft from sleep, blinking slowly in the morning light as she drank coffee on his sofa, he had been stunned by her. He loved that she was so comfortable in his house, and that realisation shocked him. He usually hated having anybody in his space for more than a few hours, but he felt like she could lounge around on his couch and watch his TV and eat his food all day and he’d happily just give her a blanket and go out and buy her more snacks. When she had stayed over last night, to make sure he drank water and didn’t collapse in the centre of the room from alcohol poisoning, it had seemed natural. He didn’t even feel awkward about it, though he was very touched by her consideration. Even so, he knew that he had grown shy around her lately, unless he had a few drinks. He had never felt like that about someone before. He had never felt like he wanted to spend all of his time with someone even if there was nothing to do or say.  
He leaned forward and rested his head on the steering wheel.  
“Idiot,” he muttered to himself. “What if she thinks this is a weird idea?”  
Going to the beach with her had been something that had been in his mind since the summer - back when going to the beach would have been a perfectly ordinary activity to suggest. It hadn’t been the right time, though, and he didn’t want to bring anyone else to Moraedeok Beach but her.  
Years ago, he had driven out to Moraedeok with his friend and his friend’s colleague who was visiting from Europe, who had read about this natural wetland and wide, wineglass-shaped bay in some tourist guide. Minseok was happy to play chauffeur. The European had no idea who he was and it was a novelty back then to not be recognised. It had taken two hours to get out there, but by the time he parked the car and they had all piled out onto the windswept dunes, he thought it was worth it. Minseok didn’t like the sea, but this was the first time he had appreciated looking at it. The bay had been stunning, like nothing he had ever seen this close to Seoul, and he sat in the sand by himself while the others ran to the shore and played football and set up a barbecue to cook lunch, letting the noise of the waves and the wind and the sand moving gently around him overtake his senses. It was perfect. Back in the summer, when [y/n] had mentioned at a picnic that she had grown up by the sea but hadn’t been to the beach since arriving in Korea, he had decided there and then to take her to Moraedeok Beach, and show it to her.  
He had never taken anyone to that beach since that first time, though he drove down by himself frequently enough. He kept a tent and some camping supplies in his car just in case he felt the need to escape. It was his place, and for the first time, he wanted to share it with someone. With her.  
When he saw her coming out of the building, he tapped the horn to show her where he was, and waved. He could already tell that she was underdressed for midwinter at the coast, in just her regular wool coat and trainers. He got out of the car and crossed over to her.  
“You, um, might need something warmer,” he said. “Do you have any sturdier boots?” He indicated his own, well-worn ones that he had picked up from an army-surplus just weeks after leaving the military, so much had he missed his uniform boots.  
She eyed his feet warily.  
“Ah,” she said. “I guess… I have a padded jacket. I don’t have hiking boots but I have some leather lace-up boots.”  
“Go get them,” he said, suppressing a nervous smile. He was starting to worry that she might be a bit confused by his idea. He was all the way back in the car and checking the weather again when it occurred to him for the first time that she might not realise that this was a date.


	2. Playdate

The longer they spent in the car, the more uneasy she became about why they were headed out to a random beach in the middle of nowhere, when they had rarely spent more than a few hours entirely on their own. Why hadn't he invited any of the others? It wasn’t that she wasn’t pleased. She enjoyed hanging out with Minseok, and when he suggested that they spend the day together, she didn’t know how she kept herself from grinning stupidly at him. Her crush was bone-deep, and when he had told her when he was drunk that she made him nervous, she’d allowed herself a kernel of hope. Sitting silently with him on this protracted road trip wasn’t what she had in mind, though, and she was starting to feel uneasy again.   
They had been in the car for nearly two hours already. They had talked on the way out of Seoul, about what she was doing at work and a party their mutual friend was throwing in a few weeks. Minseok asked her if she wanted the radio on, or if there was any music she wanted to listen to. The car was new, but he didn’t seem to have his phone connected to the system, and unselfconsciously invited her to browse the CDs in the glove box. She had smiled to herself when he suggested this; it was just like Minseok to prefer what he was used to rather than adapting to unfamiliar technology. She selected a CD at random and Minseok hummed contentedly along with the ballad singer as he drove. He was never quiet, tapping incessantly or singing, or reacting to goings-on on the road.   
As the landscape around them became more and more rural, all [y/n] could think about as they drove through the barely-inhabited scrubland on the way out to the coast was that this would be a really good place to bury a body. Minseok wasn’t the serial-killer type though… but then again, a lot of serial killers didn’t seem the type.   
“Are you going to strangle me and leave my body out here for the vultures?” she said archly.   
Minseok glanced across at her, his eyes huge.   
“What? Why would you think that?”   
[y/n] felt herself go bright red. “It was just a joke,” she said quickly. “Just because this place looks kind of… isolated. You know?”   
Minseok didn’t say anything for a few seconds.  
“It’s a weird idea, isn’t it,” he said, more to himself than to her. “Do you want me to take you back?”   
He sounded wounded. [y/n] hated herself.  
“No,” she said firmly. “It was just a joke. Please, keep driving.”   
“Are you sure?”  
“Yes.”  
“Okay. Why- um, why does it look like somewhere that someone would leave a body?”   
[y/n] sighed with relief. He seemed less nervous now.  
“It looks like somewhere I saw on this documentary Sehun and I went to see. It was about a killer who picked up hitchhikers and women in bars and brought them out to the coast but because of the tides, the police only found two of the bodies, but he told them he had murdered hundreds. And I got scared walking home but Sehun said that it wouldn’t be possible in Seoul because everything is built on, but I guess he’s never been out here.” [y/n] knew she was rambling and stopped talking.  
Minseok didn’t say anything. He had one hand on the wheel, and his other arm was propped on the door, crooked at the elbow, and he was resting his head in his hand. His fingers tapped incessantly on his temple and the steering wheel. Was he alright? Still hungover?   
“You hang out with Sehun a lot,” said Minseok suddenly.  
“Yeah, we’re good friends,” said [y/n]. “When I first met everyone, we kind of bonded over TV. He likes true crime stuff. He’s a good friend. He’s like a little brother.” She emphasised the words ‘friend’ and ‘brother.’ The last thing that Sehun would ever do was flirt with her, but she needed Minseok to know that too.   
“Sehun would have laughed at your joke,” Minseok said quietly. [y/n] didn’t know what to say, so she didn’t say anything. He was right, after all.   
The silence between them grew uncomfortable. [y/n] started to wonder how much longer they were going to be in the car.   
“We’re nearly there,” Minseok spoke up, startling her out of her contemplation of the marsh around them.   
“Are we?” she asked, sitting up and stretching. He gestured at the windscreen, where the marsh was starting to give way to sand dunes, and beyond that, a steel grey band of the sea on the horizon. “Oh.”   
Minseok swung the car into a car park beside the beach, making certain to park neatly between the white lines of a space, even though there were only two other cars there. [y/n] climbed out into the brisk sea-breeze, stretching quickly before reaching into the back seat and grabbing her parka. He had been right; what she was wearing when she first came downstairs would have been no match for this cold.   
Minseok joined her on her side of the car, facing the sea. He had a parka like hers on, except that his was blue and hers was white.   
“Is this weird, that I brought you all the way out here?” he asked her suddenly.   
“Yes, a bit,” she said, and his face took on a hopeless look. She went on quickly, stepping closer to him. “It’s weird, but it’s fun. Like an adventure. Thanks.” She smiled at him, and he smiled back.   
“Let’s go,” he said. He seemed excited again. [y/n] wondered if she was missing something about this stretch of windswept beach. She followed him to the sand, and when they stepped out onto the dunes she was surprised to find that, even in winter, the sand still gave way underfoot. She sunk down into it.  
“Ooh.”  
“It’s soft, isn’t it?” Minseok turned to grin at her, and she nodded enthusiastically. She had to take big steps to walk easily in the sand.   
“This is soft,” she agreed. “It’s kind of hard to keep balance.”   
Minseok reached back without looking and held out his hand. She eyed it, wondering if maybe she was supposed to have brought something from the car that he wanted her to give to him. He turned, a slight frown forming a line between his dark eyes. He must have seen her confusion.   
"You, um, can hold on to me, if it helps," he said, and she realised what he meant by holding out his hand. The moment was going on too long. It was getting awkward and just as his hand started to drop, she reached out and took it, lacing her fingers through his.   
“For balance,” she said shyly.   
His hand was warm and there were little grains of sand on his skin from the wind blowing around them. He seemed to be blushing but that could also be the cold. He turned and kept walking towards the shore, this time pulling her along behind him. She quickened her pace so they were side-by-side, but he still didn’t let go of her hand, just squeezed it gently. [y/n] was struggling to find conversation to make the moment less charged but she couldn’t think of anything, and just went with it. Her heart was pounding. At least she wasn’t thinking about the cold anymore.   
They walked out to the wave line, or at least the point at which the shallow water swirled on the sand. The tide was mostly out so the actual waves were still distant, though [y/n] could hear them over the wind. She associated the sea with the crashing waves and shingle beach she had grown up next to, where the traffic noise was drowned out by the cacophonous water, even in summertime. This beach had no traffic noise. There were only a few people even on it, and they were so far distant they were almost lost in the haze of the midwinter afternoon. There was no noise but the distant waves, and the water lapping gently at the sand in front of their feet, the occasional gust of wind.   
“This place is so quiet,” she said, biting her lip as she realised she was breaking the silence. Minseok didn’t seem to mind.  
“Mmmh,” he said, agreeing. “It’s peaceful.” He glanced across at her, and their eyes met. He held her gaze and she found she couldn’t look away. Minseok had the kind of eyes you couldn’t look away from when they fixed on you. “Do you like it?” he asked. “I know it’s weird, but do you?” [y/n] thought that it was important to him, this beach. Even if she wasn’t a bit taken by it, she might have told him that she was anyway, so he wouldn’t be sad. She didn’t have to lie, at least.   
“Yes,” she said. “I like it. I’ve never been to a place like this. It’s strange but it’s beautiful. How did you find it?”   
Minseok shrugged. “I came here once and then I came back again. And again. I like it here. Even in winter. I think it’s the nicest beach in Korea.”   
He seemed to notice that her hand was cold, because he turned to her and held it in both of his.   
“I should have brought you here in the summer,” he said, rubbing warmth into her cold hand. “It’s busier but it’s warm.” [y/n] just smiled in response because she was having trouble forming words. He was so close to her she could feel the sand dip below his feet where they faced her own. He must have taken her silence for being cold, because he looked suddenly concerned.   
“I’m sorry, I should have told you to bring more layers, not just the jacket.” He let go of her hand, but she didn’t have time to miss it because he quickly unwound the navy-blue scarf from around his neck and draped it over hers, wrapping it once around her and tucking the end into the front of her jacket, drawing it up so it covered her chin. He did it really quickly, without seeming to realise what he was doing until he had done it and then his hands dropped quickly and he just looked at her.   
“But… you’ll be cold,” she said, her voice coming out a little muffled around the cashmere.   
“Ah,” he said, nodding. Then, he pulled the buff he was wearing under his scarf up around his throat, zipping up the sweater he was wearing around it so that he was warm again.   
“I’m fine,” he said. “See?”   
[y/n] nodded. She breathed in. The scarf smelled like Minseok; his apartment, his car, everything he owned. It all smelled faintly of citrus and soap. It was distracting. Minseok seemed to be struggling for something to say. He looked around them, his eyes lighting on something behind her.   
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get something hot to drink from that kiosk.” He held out his hand again. “Balance?”   
She took it, threading her fingers through his own and squeezing his palm to hers.  
“Yes please,” she said. They walked a few steps before Minseok carefully folded their entwined hands into the pocket of his parka. The kiosk was still a ways off, perched on a small concrete platform overlooking the sea, but with her hand in Minseok’s pocket and his fingertips pressing lightly into her knuckles, [y/n] didn’t care how long it took to get there. 

The kiosk only had a few things on the menu, so Minseok ordered a black coffee for himself and some tea for [y/n]. He carried the drinks over to where [y/n] sat on a bench, looking out at the shore. It was getting late in the day now, and the sun was starting to set behind the blanket of clouds that shrouded the whole sky. It was a pity. Sunset on this beach on a clear day was special.   
“Do you swim here in the summer?” she asked him.   
“No,” he said quickly, and she looked up curiously. “I don’t like swimming in the sea,” he said more gently. He could go into more detail, but they were on a date. At least, he was. He was starting to realise that she hadn’t entered into this with the same thoughts he had. But even so... she had held his hand; she had taken his scarf; she had blushed prettily when he held her gaze, and smiled at him like it was okay that he was looking at her. As if he could ever help himself, though this was the first time he let her catch him. She may not have realised that he thought this was a date, but he was starting to wonder if maybe she wouldn’t mind if it was.  
He was about to ask her a bold question, ask her if she had realised he had asked her on a date, when she started talking and he lost his train of thought. Because she started talking, again, about Sehun.   
“He rented a boat down in Jeju in August and he called me from the boat and told me to go down there. Did he call you? He said he called everyone.”  
“No,” said Minseok, sipping his coffee and hoping he didn’t sound impatient. “Maybe. I don’t know, I can’t remember.” Their friendship didn’t bother him, exactly, but it was clear whenever she mentioned him that she and Sehun were closer than he realised. How close? She was still talking.   
“Well, I was working and I couldn’t take the time off so he said he was going to sail the yacht up to Incheon so we could hang out there. Oh Sehun. Sail a yacht. I kept telling him that he couldn’t just sail a little yacht into a huge industrial port, and that it would take him all night anyway, but he wouldn’t listen.” She chuckled affectionately and Minseok clenched his fist. He laughed too so he didn’t seem miserable.   
“That sounds like a bad idea,” he agreed, and she nodded.  
“Right? He was up at the controls and was trying to tell me it was just like a car. I had to call Junmyeon and tell him to call Sehun and make sure he didn’t try to sail a yacht up from Jeju. I don’t know Junmyeon that well, so it was kind of awkward.”   
The longer she talked about Sehun, the more uncomfortable Minseok grew. Sehun was taller than him, broader than him, better looking. He was funnier and more comfortable around someone like [y/n]. Someone interesting. She probably thought Minseok was nice and friendly… but boring. He had told her last night, when he was drunk, that he felt nervous around her. He knew that meant that he was usually quiet in her presence. Except when he was drunk, when he would find any excuse to sit next to her. When he forgot what he was saying, just that he was saying it to her.   
“Would you have met Sehun today, if I hadn’t asked you to come here with me?” he asked suddenly, interrupting her. [y/n] blinked at him in confusion.   
“I don’t know,” she said, and she sounded sincere. “Maybe if I was going to go shopping,” she went on, and Minseok felt his heart sink.   
“I like shopping,” he muttered quietly, and she didn’t say anything so he thought she might not have heard him. They were sitting right next to each other but he felt the distance between them like a presence, a Sehun-shaped thing that kept him from being brave like had been when he held her hand earlier. Here on this bench, he had options. He could move closer to her and rest his arm on the back of the bench, brush her shoulder with his fingertips until she closed the gap and put her head on his shoulder. That would be nice, to sit with her like that. He could take her hand again, the one that wasn’t holding her tea. He could sink down in his seat and lean his head against hers. Or, and this is what he knew he was going to do, he could do nothing.   
“We should go back to Seoul,” he said after a couple of minutes of absentmindedly watching a child and her father root around for shells on the beach in front of them.   
“Already?” [y/n] asked, sounding unsure. Minseok just nodded and drank the last of his coffee. 

He didn’t take her hand when they stood up to go back to the car. [y/n] tried not to think about it; he had just been helping her stay upright. It meant nothing, clearly. He stormed ahead of her on the sand, too fast for her to keep abreast of him. With her hands jammed in the pockets of her coat, she quickly lost her footing and stumbled. The first time, she regained her feet before he noticed. She was glad of that, she must look ridiculous. She slowed down and followed at a more manageable pace. A gap opened between them. She felt like that gap was symbolic of what was happening here. Whatever was happening here. She was on-edge, nervous. Every time she thought she understood what was going on between her and Minseok, [y/n] thought something always happened to derail it. She said something, or he said something, that made it awkward again. She could barely even think of what it was she had said to him; he made her so anxious to be interesting and not bore him that she was rambling half the time, telling silly stories about Sehun to try and make him laugh because they seemed to have that kind of relationship. At least, that was the impression Sehun gave her, that Minseok always made him feel like a wayward child.   
Her mind was dwelling on the conversation on the bench, and she didn’t see the dunes clumping around tough little bunches of grass until she tripped over one of them and fell hard on her shoulder.   
“Ah!” She swore and spat out sand as she sat back up. Minseok sprinted back to her, light on his feet, the exact opposite of her on this ground.   
“[y/n], are you alright?” He moved to help her stand up but she waved him back; she felt humiliated enough already.   
“It’s fine,” she said, “I’m fine.” She dusted herself off and looked around. “I hate sand,” she said, deadpan, looking off into the middle distance. Minseok was quiet, and she glanced at him. She had, honestly, been expecting him to laugh.   
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I thought… never mind, sorry. I shouldn’t have brought you here.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and turned to continue the march back to the car. [y/n] realised with horror that he had taken her literally.   
“It’s a joke,” she shouted at his back, cursing herself for making yet another stupid quip that he didn’t get. Minseok turned slowly, regarding her, still walking but slowing down so she could catch up.  
“What joke?” he asked warily. Oh no, she thought, did he think she meant that him bringing her here was a joke? She had to do some damage control, fast.  
“It’s a Star Wars joke,” she clarified. He frowned at her. “From the prequels, you know? It’s a meme.” Minseok shook his head. “I thought you liked Star Wars,” she said, in a last-ditch effort to show him she was really trying here. She knew this thing about him, she was trying to relate.   
“I don’t know it,” he said. “Um, I didn’t watch the prequels. I didn’t like the CGI.”   
[y/n] bit the inside of her cheek to keep from huffing in frustration. He hadn’t seen the prequels. Of course he hadn’t, he was a proper Star Wars fan, with serious opinions about the movies, he would definitely have some serious opinions about those flaming dumpsters that were the prequels.   
“What about the meme?” she asked. He shook his head in confusion, because of course he didn’t know the meme.   
“I don’t know,” he said, and they didn’t say anything else to each other until they got back to the car.   
And then, like the perfect postscript to an already hopeless situation, the car wouldn’t start.   
“What’s wrong?” [y/n] asked after Minseok had tried and failed to keep the ignition going for about five minutes. There was a red light on the dashboard. “What does that red light mean?”   
Minseok tried the ignition again. A few whines and then nothing. “I think,” he said finally, “it’s the battery.”   
“Why?”  
“Because I left the lights on when we got out and I think it drained the battery,” he said quickly, then pulled out his phone. He dialed a number and spoke to someone on the other end in a formal voice. [y/n] got out of the car and shut the door quietly behind her. He might be more comfortable talking to whoever it was without her staring at him.   
[y/n] checked her own phone. She had barely any signal and even less battery, so she put it back in her pocket and looked out to sea. She had been so preoccupied with getting ready to meet Minseok that she had only charged it a little bit before she left the apartment. She cursed herself. When Minseok didn’t call her back into the car after a few minutes, she chanced a look through the window. He seemed to be trying to arrange for someone to come and help, but he wasn’t getting the answer he wanted. She could tell that he was getting angry, and left him to it, walking out to the fence that separated the beach from the car park and resting her elbows on it. After a couple more minutes, Minseok joined her.   
“This is… this is a disaster,” he said. He wouldn’t look at her, directing his ire at the blank screen of his phone instead. “The stupid- ah. Never mind.”  
“What did they say? Are they sending anyone?” [y/n] thought she knew the answer already.  
“No,” he said. “Not until tomorrow.”  
“Tomorrow?"  
"Yeah. They can't send anyone until then. So I'll have to stay here with the car."


	3. Closer To You

Minseok was miserable. For the first time in all the time he had been coming to this beach, he didn’t want to stay here. He didn’t want to fall asleep to the sound of distant waves, to the feel of soft sand under the tent. He wanted to go home and lock the door and get into the shower for about twenty hours so he wouldn’t have to think about what a disaster this had turned out to be. [y/n] was clearly not enjoying herself, and he knew he was to blame for that. She kept trying to make him laugh, but he was so anxious about making her happy that all of her jokes went over his head. Sehun would laugh at her jokes, he knew. He’d seen them together in bars and at parties, winding each other up. They were close, he’d been thinking that maybe it was only a matter of time before they became a couple. He would have laughed at that Star Wars joke. Minseok had seen trailers for all of the prequels and half of one of them, and given up before he began to hate his beloved original trilogy. Sehun had seen all of them; had actually liked those prequels (of course). Minseok was beginning to wonder what had even convinced him in the first place that [y/n] might like him. He couldn’t believe he had left the lights on. Well, he could believe it. He had been so nervous getting out of the car that he must have just left them on.   
“We can’t stay here,” said [y/n], looking around them. “There’s nothing here, there’s nowhere to sleep. We can’t sleep in the car, it’s freezing.”   
We?  
“[y/n], you don’t need to stay. Go back to Seoul,” said Minseok, not looking at her. He was a little touched that she had thought he meant that they should both stay. She gave him an incredulous look that suggested that she was still thinking along those lines.   
“I’m not leaving you here on your own,” she said. “It’s dangerous. You could be killed.”  
“Why do you think everyone’s about to get murdered?” He meant it to be affectionate, a call-back to their earlier conversation. It was cute that she was worried about him. She, apparently, did not get this joke.   
“This is an empty beach. That kiosk doesn’t even have enough space for a room at the back, they clearly don’t live here. Ask them to drive us into the nearest town. There must be a hotel nearby. You can’t stay on this beach. What if someone murdered you in the night?”  
“I’ve stayed here lots of times before, it’s safe. And what if you were here too? Then you’d be murdered. Go back to Seoul.” He said this more sharply than intended and immediately felt terrible. She looked like he’d slapped her.   
When she didn’t move or say anything for a little bit, Minseok pulled out his own phone, and scrolled down to Sehun’s number. He pressed the call button and handed it over. [y/n] looked at the phone, saw what was on the screen, and hit the red button just as Sehun said hello. Actually, Sehun had asked who it was and Minseok tried not to roll his eyes; Sehun never bothered saving anyone’s number.   
“Why did you hang up? He can come and get you. I know he’s not working today.” Minseok took back his phone and tried to find the number again. An ominous beep signalled the dying throes of his battery. He swore at it under his breath.   
“I don’t need someone to come rescue me. I’m not a lost princess. If you don’t want me here I’ll take the bus. There’s a stop back that way.” She was shaking with anger. Minseok was horrified to see that she had tears in her eyes. She started in the direction of the road and then turned quickly. He was surprised she had changed her mind so fast, but it turned out he was wrong about that. She carefully unwound his scarf from her neck, looked at it for a second, and held it out to him.   
“I… no,” he said, stepping back. She would get cold; he wasn’t taking back the scarf while she still needed it. She held the scarf for a second, then shook her head with impatience and draped it over the fence beside her. Then she stormed off. Minseok watched her go.   
He had to make a decision here.   
He could let her go. There was a bus. It wasn’t very regular, but it would pick up from that stop relatively soon. It would take her about five hours to get back to Seoul, and she would need to change over a couple of times, at least once in Incheon and maybe in Suwon too. She would probably not get home until late.  
He looked at his phone, but it was dead now. If he could find a payphone, he could call Sehun even though she told him not to and ask him to pick her up. Sehun would probably agree when he heard it was [y/n] in distress. She wouldn’t thank either of them for it, though. Minseok briefly considered calling Chanyeol because he loved driving that car of his out of the city when he could, but Chanyeol would probably pick up a case of beer and an extra tent and turn up with Sehun, and make the whole thing into a camping trip. Minseok didn’t need that, not least because he didn’t want the others knowing about this place. He didn’t want to see anyone right now. Well… that wasn’t true.   
[y/n] was angry with him. He thought she might have feelings for Sehun. They were putting each other on edge. Yet… yet, he knew he would still rather be stuck on this beach with [y/n] than anyone else in the world. And he had given her his phone to call Sehun, hadn’t he? He had given her a chance to go to Sehun, and leave him here. And she had chosen neither. She hadn’t even entertained the idea of calling Sehun. There was that. Minseok had an inkling that if he asked her outright to stay here with him, she might say yes. There was one catch, but he could just explain it to her.   
In the end, when he thought it through, there really was no decision to be made. What was he waiting for? Minseok grabbed his scarf off the fence and took off at a sprint towards the bus-stop, where [y/n] was already settling in to wait. 

The beach was cold and getting colder. An early dusk cast the whole beach in deep blues and greys, and [y/n] watched the woman at the kiosk shut the hatch and turn off the lights inside. She watched the family who had been playing on the beach in front of her and Minseok load a bucket of shells into the back of their little car and drive off. The other car that had been there earlier left just before them. She watched sea-birds in the distance. She looked anywhere but back at the car where she had left Minseok. If he wanted to stay on this beach and freeze and possibly die at the hands of an opportunistic serial killer then that was on him. She looked up at the bus information again, counting the number of changes between this place and her bed. She didn’t hear Minseok until he was at the bus stop, panting lightly.   
“Don’t take the bus,” he said, startling her. As if on cue, headlights further along the coast road appeared, signalling its arrival.   
“I told you, I’m not waiting around for Sehun to pick me up. And a taxi would cost a fortune and take as long as the bus by the time it got here, and I am not getting in a car with a stranger and driving through that marsh. That’s how murders happen.” She stood up. The bus was still a ways off, but it needed to see her to stop.   
The sound of Minseok laughing quietly distracted her, though.   
“What? You’re finally laughing. It can’t have been something I said,” she said, dismissively. He stopped laughing and she felt bad; that was a little sharp, but she was short of patience with him. He had driven her two hours out into the middle of nowhere to drink a cup of tea and get grumpy with her for no reason, and now he was telling her to go home and leave him there. If she didn’t seriously question his sense of humour at this stage, she might have thought he was playing some elaborate joke at her expense.   
“I was just… you go straight to murder every time,” he said, soberly. He glanced at the bus. “Don’t get on the bus. Please.”   
“It’s the only way back-”  
“No,” said Minseok, reaching out and turned her towards him, away from the approaching bus. He waved the bus on. He took her hand in his; it was cold where it held hers. “No,” he said again, as she watched the red brake lights speed away from them, along the coast road. “Don’t go back to Seoul. Stay here with me. I want you to. I know what I said but I don’t really want you to leave.”  
[y/n] blinked at him in surprise.  
“You told me to go.”   
“I know,” he said, “I’m sorry.” He dropped her hand. He looked guilty, but she couldn’t tell if he was sorry for telling her to leave or because he had caused her to miss the bus. There wasn’t another one for two hours. “If you want to go, the kiosk owner is on a moped but she could probably drive you to the town at the other end of the bay, if you hurry. There’s a bus station there with more regular services.” He wasn’t looking at her, he was looking down at his hands where he was bunching up his scarf over and over.   
“You don’t want me to go?” she asked in a tremulous voice not entirely unrelated to the cold. She tried not to glance down at the scarf. Her neck was freezing. She dared not ask for it, though. Would he even give it to her again? She was getting whiplash with this man. One second he was adorable and considerate, the next he was taciturn and cold. Though he was still considerate, even when he was grumpy.   
“I want you to stay,” he said in a firm voice, and he flashed her a shy smile. “I’m sorry this has turned into a terrible date. I didn’t… I don’t know why I got angry.” That sounded like a lie, he must have some reason for getting short with her but she didn’t interrogate it because her attention was snagged on another word. Date? This was a date?! He was still talking. “I just didn’t want you to feel like you had to stay, if you were bored. But then you got mad when I told you to go so I wondered if maybe you weren’t bored being here with me, but you’re still not having a great time.” This was the most he had ever said to her in one go. She wished he would stop so she could get a word in. He seemed to sense that she wanted to say something and misread her. “I’m sorry you’re cold. Here.” He stepped close and looped the scarf around her neck again even as he went on. “I stay here a lot, it’s not dangerous so you don’t need to worry. There isn’t a house or a motel or anything, so it’s not for everyone, but I keep camping equipment in my car anyway so we have somewhere to sleep. There are sinks and stuff over by the kiosk, and we can light a small fire to keep warm. And I brought some extra food just in case you were hungry when we got here. So you don’t have to go, if you don’t want to. You can get the next bus, and I’ll wait here with you. I don’t know, do you like camping? Do you want to stay?”   
[y/n] blinked at him. He seemed to be finished. He was waiting for her to say something. He was still holding the scarf around her neck and seemed to realise it at the same time as she did, and let go quickly. He put his hands behind his back, then clasped them in front, then put them in his pocket. [y/n] was still reeling from the discovery that they were on a date. He was waiting for her to answer, though, so she needed to say something.  
“Yes,” she said. Then, “I mean no.”   
He frowned at her. “What?”  
“Yes I want to stay. No, I don’t like camping, but I don’t want to leave you here on your own. And I’ve only been camping a few times. Maybe I’m doing it wrong. Yes. I want to stay,” she finished, nodding to emphasise her resolve. He broke into a shy smile.   
“Okay,” he said. “Okay, that’s great. There’s just… well, you should know I only come out here by myself. So I only have one tent.”


	4. Confession

[y/n] had liked Minseok from almost the moment she met him. He had never really had to insinuate himself into her affections, because he kind of got in on that level from the start. Later, she would become close with Sehun due to shared mutual interests and common maknae-isms, and she was friendly with the others, but Minseok had always, from that first night, been the object of her attention. It had been terrifying, meeting Jongdae’s friends, quite apart from who they were. They were boisterous and chaotic and it was difficult to be entirely comfortable in their company straight off, because they treated each other like family, constantly winding each other up and making digs at each other. She had sat quietly, sipping her drink and not expecting to say much, when Minseok sat down next to her and gently pushed her into the conversation. He asked her questions and listened to the answers. He laughed at her attempts at awkward jokes and made sure no one interrupted her when she spoke. She gradually settled in over the course of the evening and left feeling like she had made friends. Afterwards, she had asked Jongdae if he had told Minseok to look after her, but he shook his head.  
“Hyung’s just like that,” he said. “He’s kind of shy himself, especially in big groups of people he doesn’t know, so he likes to make sure everybody feels included. He looks after people.”  
That was how [y/n] would describe how she felt, sitting on a blanket by the little fire Minseok had coaxed to life on the camping ground on the beach. Looked after. He had instructed her to sit after they set up the tent, after she had assured him that she was fine sharing it with him as long as he didn’t mind, and after he had given her a complete run-down of the expected weather for the night and the necessity of making sure they were warm while not making eye contact. She understood perfectly; he didn’t want her to think this was some ploy he had designed to get her clothes off. She was still processing the idea that they were on a date - that the guy she liked had, somehow, managed to successfully ask her out without her realising that was what was happening. She couldn’t quite believe it, yet. On the one hand, she couldn’t wait to tell Sehun, but on the other, he would never let her forget that she didn’t realise it was a date. Sehun was the only person who knew about her crush on Minseok, and that was only because she spent so much time staring at Minseok when they all went out together that Sehun had had to snap his fingers in front of her eyes once to get her attention. She had spent half an hour describing his myriad outstanding personality traits before resorting to “He’s incredibly hot” and Sehun had finally left her alone. It was true, anyway. If the first thing she had noticed about his personality was that Minseok was kind, the first thing she had actually noticed about him in general was that he had the most astonishing pair of eyes she had ever seen. When they were fixed on her, his gaze was so direct and avid that she sometimes found it hard to concentrate and forgot what she was saying. It was one of the many reasons she chose to sit next to him on nights out rather than across from him. He was marginally easier to deal with when she could only see his side-profile.  
She thought about this as she watched him arrange the little camping stove in the sand.  
“What are you cooking?” she asked.  
“Ramen,” he said. “Well, I’m boiling water for ramen.”  
[y/n] wrinkled her nose, glad he couldn’t see her face clearly. She didn’t like ramen, but she knew if she told him that, he would probably trek kilometres out to the nearest shop to get her something else, and she didn’t want him or her to get murdered while he was gone.  
She watched him pour water into a pan from a huge bottle he brought from the car. He seemed to have a whole nest of provisions in the back of his car, as well as a tent and a stove and blankets. He told her, as they carried stuff over to the camping area, that he came out to the beach a lot, but he also liked to go up to the mountains.  
“I like the mountains,” she’d said, and he had smiled shyly at her but didn’t say anything else. The truth was that she preferred the mountains to the sea, but appreciated that this place was special to him. He said he had brought her here because it was special, as well as because she had mentioned the sea once. She was quietly pleased that he remembered this detail about her, so she didn’t tell him that she wasn’t hugely fond of the sea.  
Minseok set the water to boil and then opened two packets of ramen and set them in the sand, standing up. He fished out the soup-base and vegetable packets and poured them into the water, which started to boil after only a couple of minutes.  
“I learned this trick when I was in the mountains once,” he said, excitedly. When the water had boiled, [y/n] watched in abject horror as Minseok slowly poured a bit into each of the ramen bags and then wound them shut. He handed her a pair of chopsticks and after a few minutes, picked up one of the bags of ramen and then shook it into a bowl and handed it to her.  
“This way, it’s not too hot and the soup doesn’t get too starchy,” he explained. He dumped his own bag into the now-empty pot and invited her to start eating.  
[y/n] was hungry. All she’d had to eat all day had been that terrible haejangguk he had made. She poked at the mass of noodles in her bowl and began to eat.  
“Minseok, do you like to cook?” she asked after a few moments of silent eating. To her surprise, he shook his head emphatically.  
“I hate it,” he said, and shrugged. That explained it then; no one who liked to cook would have this much disregard for flavour.  
“Maybe… maybe next time we hang out we can try cooking something together,” [y/n] said around a mouthful of ramen. She wasn’t sure he heard her because he didn’t reply for a couple of seconds. Then he nodded.  
“Next time, um, yeah. Yes, I mean. The next time you want to hang out. We can cook.” He didn’t look at her, just smiled into his pot and then kept eating. After a couple of seconds he dropped the nest of noodles he was trying to eat back into the pot. “Wait, do you mean we should cook something else? Do you not... is this bad?” He gestured towards the ramen. [y/n] looked in her bowl; it was almost empty. She figured she was safe now to tell him the truth without the risk of him running off into the night to try and salvage the situation. Nothing about his behaviour today suggested that he would do otherwise.  
“It’s fine,” she said, “I just don’t actually, um, I don’t like ramen.” Regardless of her words, she picked up the last of the ramen from her bowl and ate it, chewing slowly. It was horrible. Minseok stared at her for a couple of seconds.  
“Oh,” he said finally. Then, “Did ramen murder your family? Is that why you’re always so worried about murder?” He said this deadpan, so it took [y/n] a couple of seconds to realise that he was telling a joke. He was joking. At her expense. As soon as she realised it, she laughed, then choked, and had to hold her hand over her mouth to keep from spitting the last of her ramen in his direction. That might be considered piling insult on insult. She coughed, and in an instant, he was by her side, unscrewing the cap from a bottle of water. He was grinning even as he handed it to her and apologised. He looked ridiculously pleased with himself for making her laugh. She gulped down the water and shook her head at him.  
“I was eating, why would you make me laugh?” she said.  
“I know, I’m sorry,” he said. “It was funny, though, wasn’t it?”  
“So funny I almost choked,” she said. “Maybe that was your plan all along, you were bringing me out here to murder me. Death by ramen.”  
Minseok’s face fell.  
“Minseok, I don’t think you brought me here to murder me,” [y/n] clarified, though she felt ridiculous doing so. He was so sensitive, she was going to have to work on making sure he took her less seriously. She was happy to do that work, if he let her. If he really did like her back, the way she liked him. She realised that he was right next to her. He seemed to notice at the same time as her and made to move away, then changed his mind and settled down in the sand. Her elbow was touching his. There were probably six layers of clothes between her skin and his, but that contact was electric. And it was enough to tell her that maybe he liked her back. 

They talked after dinner and Minseok didn’t noticed the time passing, listening to her voice, and answering her questions. She had a lot of questions. It was like she had been saving up, all those times in the bar or at parties when she had stayed quiet seemed to be paying dividends. She asked him about his family, about growing up, about the military.  
“Don’t you know all of my stories?” he said, after he felt like he’d been talking for way too long. “I always end up talking to you when I’m drunk. You must be tired of hearing me talk.”  
She hadn’t said anything for a few seconds.  
“I can stop asking, if you don’t want to talk,” she said quietly. Minseok glanced across and saw that she was looking away.  
“Ah, it’s not that,” he had said quickly, nudging her with his elbow. “I don’t want to bore you,” he had smiled at her in what he hoped was a reassuring way.  
“You’re not boring,” she had said, not looking at him. “You could never be boring.”  
Minseok had felt himself grinning stupidly. “Even when I tell the same story ten times when I’m drunk?”  
[y/n] chuckled. “Maybe then, but it’s cute,” she said. She abruptly stopped talking and shut her eyes really tight.  
The whole evening had been like that. As soon as he realised that she was trying to flirt with him, and as soon as he’d resisted the urge to punch the air in relief that he hadn’t hopelessly misread the situation, he was delighted to find that she was as awkward about flirting as he was. She seemed like she was unused to it, which he found gratifying. If she didn’t know how to flirt, it maybe meant she didn’t flirt with Sehun.  
  
Minseok was freezing. Well, his back was freezing. He kept feeding the little blaze he had made with fire bricks and bits of dry wood, so his front was warm. He wondered if [y/n] was cold too and moved himself so he was slightly behind her, hoping to keep some of the draught off her back. He briefly considered putting his arms around her and hugging her to his chest, wondering if she would be okay with that. It would keep her warm, at least. He thought through the scenarios that could possibly come out of this. Then, just as he had psyched himself up and was about to move and attempt it, she spoke up. He stilled.  
“Where are you going?” she asked. She clearly thought he was about to stand up.  
“Nowhere,” he said, moving back to sit next to her again. “Are you cold?”  
“A bit,” she said, and they both just looked into the fire for a bit.  
“What time is it?” [y/n] asked after a long silence.  
“It’s nearly half past nine. Are- um- it’s very early, but are you tired?”  
“Not yet,” she said, hugging her arms around herself.  
“Do you want to go for a walk?” Minseok asked.  
“No,” she said. She seemed to be about to ask something and then stopped. She looked around, but wouldn’t look at him.  
“What is it?”  
“It’s just... um… Minseok, is there a bathroom here?”  
Minseok nearly face-palmed. Why hadn’t he told her where the bathroom was earlier. He stood up and held out his hand.  
“Come on,” he said. “I’ll walk you there.”  
[y/n] stood up on her own, but took his hand when she was standing. Her hand was cold. He wished he’d brought some gloves for her.  
“You can just tell me where it is,” she said quietly, but he shook his head and started to walk in the direction of the kiosk, where the utility block was.  
“If I don’t walk you there, some serial killer might appear and slit your throat. Or my throat. Or both of our throats,” he said with mock sincerity.  
“You’re making fun of me,” said [y/n].  
“No- I mean, yes, but you don’t think I’m serious, do you? I’m sorry…”  
She didn’t say anything else as they walked the rest of the way, and Minseok became increasingly panicked as he realised she was annoyed with him. He had been teasing her, but he thought she would find it funny. He gestured towards the utility block, and used the men’s side while she used the women’s, and then went outside to brush his teeth in the dark at the tap against the kiosk wall.  
Minseok was the kind of person who carried a toothbrush with him wherever he went, but he didn’t know if [y/n] was like that. He didn’t have one to give to her, but he offered her the tube of toothpaste when she came out of the bathroom anyway. She took it and rinsed her mouth out, and when she was finished they stood awkwardly by the kiosk. He didn’t know what to say to her so he didn’t say anything.  
“I’m sorry,” she said finally.  
“Me too,” he said quickly.  
“No,” she interrupted, “you don’t need to be. I was- look, it’s embarrassing. I really, really, needed to pee. And I wasn’t thinking about anything else. And you were just trying to make me laugh. I didn’t want to laugh because I had to pee.”  
Minseok nodded slowly, trying not to laugh because he didn’t know if that would be okay. He had no idea what to do with his hands and just swung them around uselessly. When [y/n] closed the distance between them he wasn’t prepared for it and stepped back, missing his footing on the edge of the concrete paving and toppling backwards into the sand.  
His shoulders hit the ground first and the rest of him kind of crumpled down after. The sand was soft and cold and a spiky tuft of beach grass scratched his face.  
“Ow,” he said, and then [y/n] was there, crouched next to him.  
“I’m so sorry! I was just going to give you a hug, I didn’t mean to scare you, are you hurt? Are you okay? Where does it hurt?”  
“It’s okay, I’m okay,” said Minseok, struggling to sit up while she was crouching right over him. “Um, I’m okay,” he said again, but she didn’t move.  
“Are you sure? Did you get hurt?”  
There was barely any light, but he could see her features in the dark because the sky was clear again and there was a bright moon. The light from their fire a little way away threw glints of light across her face, and there was a little glare from the streetlamp at the bus stop. Her hair was loose, half of it tucked into his scarf, the rest in wisps where it had fallen out of the knot it had been in earlier. Even with that worried look on her face, she still looked so pretty. He felt again that little burst of courage that had caused him to run to the bus stop to get her earlier. He reached up and brushed her hair back from her face. His hand cupped her cheek.  
She stilled, but didn’t do anything to make him think he should move his hand. He grew bolder and propped himself up on his elbow. There were centimetres between them now, and when she didn’t move, when she just closed her eyes, he finally let himself believe that she was on the same page as he was. He ventured across that tiny bit of distance that was left between them and kissed her, softly, on the lips.  
It was a short kiss, more a statement of intent than an event in itself, but she kissed him back, and it was enough to signify that their friendship had changed. It would be something else now, whatever happened after this. Her lips were soft and cold and the kiss tasted like toothpaste and salt from the wind.  
A couple of seconds later, the roar of an engine and the crunch of gravel announced a new arrival to the car park behind them. Minseok and [y/n] broke apart. They looked at each other for a few seconds and Minseok tried a tentative smile, which [y/n] returned.  
“Was that okay?” he asked, as she stood back and held out her hand to help him up.  
“Yes,” she said. She sounded like she was smiling but her hair was over her face again. Minseok stood, holding her hand, and reached out to push back her hair again so he could see her face. As he did so, she looked suddenly in the direction of the car park where the door of the new car slammed.  
“What is it?” he asked, following her line of sight. A man was stretching by the car, looking around. Then, he walked towards their camp.


	5. Trouble

Minseok made to move back towards the fire but [y/n] still had hold of his hand and held him back.  
“Wait,” she said. “Who is that?”  
“I don’t know,” he said, “I’ll go and say hello. It’s probably one of the people who live around here.”  
[y/n] stared at him.   
“No one lives around here.”  
“It could be someone who looks after the beach,” he said, in a reasonable tone. She fought to keep her jaw from dropping. Was he serious? Just a minute ago he had been kissing her and she couldn’t believe she could feel as close to anyone, but at this second, it seemed like that person had disappeared, been replaced by someone who looked like Minseok but had seemingly lost their sense of reason. Was he insane? He was going to talk to the stranger on the beach. The stranger, who had turned up, by himself, late at night, to an abandoned beach, and was availing himself of the heat from somebody else's fire? The stranger who - oh no - the stranger who, even now, was looking in their direction. He must have heard their voices.   
“Hello?” the stranger called across the beach. Before [y/n] could stop him, Minseok raised his hand and called back.  
“What are you doing?!” [y/n] hissed at him. He looked taken aback.  
“He’s already seen us, [y/n]. We can’t just stand here, we’ll freeze. Come on.”  
“But-”  
Minseok turned to face her and put his hands on her shoulders. In spite of her mounting terror, she was comforted by the gesture. Even in the half-light, she could make out his features. Just looking at him could calm her down, she realised. He searched her face and gave her a small smile.  
“Hold my hand,” he said, taking hers as if he had to show her how to do it. “And stay behind me. I’ll talk to him. Okay?”   
[y/n] still thought he was crazy, but she nodded. This wasn’t the shy Minseok who had panicked his way through their date. This Minseok was calm and assured; and, she remembered suddenly, had a black belt in Taekwondo and military training. What she had initially mistaken for naivete was confidence. She felt a momentary rush of affection towards him, that he was so rarely so self-assured off stage that she hadn’t recognised it when he was.   
They started towards the campfire and the stranger, Minseok’s hand a warm, firm token of assurance as it grasped her own.   
The stranger was standing by the fire with his hands stretched out. He wasn’t as old as [y/n] had initially thought, probably only ten years older than they were. He was stocky and a bit taller than Minseok, with a roundish face. He wasn’t wearing a coat, just a thin fleece. [y/n] couldn’t tell if it was grey or green in the flickering light. Minseok kept the fire between him and them.  
“Hello,” Minseok said.  
“It’s a cold evening,” said the stranger, grinning at them. “Nice to have a fire.”  
He was looking at them expectantly. [y/n] looked away, at the ground or the fire, anywhere but at him. Minseok’s hand tightened around her own. Who was this man? What was he doing at their camp?  
“Can we help you?” Minseok asked, smiling politely. There was a guarded edge to his voice now, though. It seemed that he wasn’t about to relax. The stranger cocked his head to the side, considering them. [y/n] tried not to think about every single movie and documentary she had watched with Sehun in the last year. She tried not to think about what happened in those movies and documentaries to couples on beaches in the middle of the night.   
“Are you local?” he asked, abruptly changing the subject. Minseok didn’t answer for a couple of seconds, then gestured to the man to sit down. He did. Minseok pulled on [y/n]’s hand and sat down too, so they were facing the man across the little fire.   
“I’m not from here, no, but I know the place well,” Minseok said. “Are you?”  
“Local? Yes.”   
He didn’t say anything else so they sat in silence for a moment or so. [y/n] stole a glance at the stranger. He was staring at her. He wasn’t blinking.  
“Where are you from?” he asked suddenly.   
“Seoul,” Minseok said. The stranger looked at [y/n] again. He winked. She immediately dropped her gaze to the sand at her feet. This felt wrong.  
“Both of you from Seoul?”  
“Yes, both of us,” Minseok answered smoothly. The stranger was staring hard at [y/n] now, she could feel it like ants on her skin. She looked into the fire.  
“Can the lady not speak?” he said quietly. [y/n] went cold all over in a way that had nothing to do with the temperature on the beach. She squeezed Minseok’s hand and dug the fingers of her other hand into the sand. The stranger began to laugh quietly.   
“This is a good beach for camping,” he said to Minseok, shifting his attention from her. Minseok agreed with him and they talked for a minute or so about the best place to set up a tent at different times of the year. [y/n] was astonished at the ease with which Minseok made casual conversation with the stranger. There was clearly something… off about him, but Minseok talked to him about camping and the beach as fluently as if he was talking to one of his managers. [y/n] realised that Minseok must have to make conversation with strangers all the time, people who made him uncomfortable or stared too hard at him. She felt suddenly protective over him, wanting to shield him from having to talk to people like that. Right now, though, she was grateful that he was taking point on this conversation. If she was on her own on this beach, she’d already be hiding in the reeds by now, or running towards the distant lights of the little village kilometres away, at the far end of the bay. She was hoping that Minseok would steer the conversation towards getting this weirdo to get back into his car. Then she realised that she would be staying on the beach even if he did leave, and she suddenly felt very exposed out here.   
“My friends and I come out here all the time,” the stranger was saying. “My friends are really good swimmers but I don’t swim in the ocean. Do you swim here?”   
Minseok cleared his throat. “Yeah,” he lied easily. Why was this stranger asking about swimming? She knew Minseok didn’t swim in the sea here, but could see that he didn’t want to invite any kind of bonding with this odd man. It was the first indication that [y/n] really had that Minseok was more nervous than he seemed.   
“Do you come here with friends too?” the stranger asked. The way he said ‘friends’ made [y/n] feel nauseous. He seemed to be suggesting some sort of double-entendre and she didn’t want to know what the other meaning of the word could be to him. Minseok nodded.  
“Yes,” he said. “We’re waiting on friends tonight, in fact.”   
If [y/n] wasn’t already half-paralysed with uneasiness she would have hit him for that lie. What if the stranger offered to stay until their ‘friends’ turned up? She had seen enough slasher films to know that such an offer was a given after that statement. To her surprise and horror, the stranger went one further.   
“Are they going to help you jump-start your car?” he asked quietly. Beside her, [y/n] felt Minseok stiffen. He seemed at a loss for what to say. His silence seemed to confirm it. The stranger shrugged, as if satisfied with his guess. Or… was it even a guess? 

How did this man know about the car? Minseok was struggling to find his voice. He knew he had to say something. He’d had no intention of letting this guy know that they were stranded on the beach. When the man had first turned up, Minseok had thought he was just a local. He seemed keen to talk, maybe lonely, and Minseok felt a bit sorry for him, so he had been friendly. He hadn’t found it strange to be asked if he lived nearby, but he had been alarmed by the tone of the question. That had been the first red flag. The implications of the question, the sly way in which it was asked, weren’t indicative of the pride or curiosity of someone who lucked out with property on the bay, or who had spent summers here as a child. No, he had been asking them if they knew where they were, if they knew anyone around here. He tried not dwell on the fact that he had teased [y/n] about murderers. What if- no; jinxes weren’t real. In any case, it was clear to Minseok, after a ten minutes conversation with him about camping here, that this man was not familiar with the bay in the manner of someone local to it. He knew some things about the place, like the tides and where things were. But he had suggested pitching in a tent in late-August at a place Minseok knew to be a quagmire after the summer rains, and had already boasted that he knew the owner of the kiosk. Minseok didn’t exactly know the owner, but he knew that the kiosk was owned and run by a youngish, unmarried woman named Ms Choi, who this guy kept referring to as ‘the ajusshi.’ Minseok had been coming here for two years, so either this guy’s information was out of date, or he was bluffing. Minseok was starting to feel like he was getting a handle on the situation, when the question about the car had thrown him off. How did the man know that the car wouldn’t start? Before he could say anything, the man went on.  
“I was here earlier,” he said. “I saw you struggle to get the engine going.”   
This didn’t make Minseok feel any better. He dared not glance at [y/n]. He had already assured her that the beach was safe, had already suggested that her fear that they would be murdered in this place was unfounded, and yet… and yet this odd man had watched them struggle earlier on from inside his own car, and had returned later on for some unknown reason. Minseok wanted to get [y/n] as far away from this creepy guy as possible. He felt adrenaline coursing through his veins and hoped he wouldn’t need to use it.   
“Can you help?” he asked. [y/n] shot him an alarmed look. He squeezed her hand. Trust me, he wanted to say. All that mattered to him right now was that she was safe. That they got back to Seoul together, safely.   
The stranger stood up, making a bit of a deal of the endeavour. Minseok noticed that he was a little unsteady on his feet. Was he drunk?   
“I think I have some jump cables in the car,” said the stranger. “That’s why I came back.” He winked at [y/n]. That was a lie, Minseok thought. There was too much of an afterthought to that statement, a slight hesitation when Minseok asked him for help. Minseok stood up too, putting himself between the stranger and [y/n]. She stood up alongside him.  
“I’ll go with you,” he said. The stranger nodded and didn’t move, still staring at them. Minseok bent down and gave [y/n] a light kiss on the cheek.  
“Don’t go,” she said, gripping his sleeve. “Please.”  
“I’ll be right back. I promise,” he whispered in her ear. “Maybe he’ll leave if he can’t help.” Minseok didn’t think the man would leave easily, not when he seemed comfortable to just sit and stare at them when they were clearly uncomfortable in his presence. He wanted her to calm down, though so he made sure to keep his voice steady. He wanted her to feel reassured. He squeezed her hand and let go. Her terrified eyes were fixed on him. She looked like she was ready to bolt at any second. He gave her a small smile, and then gestured to the stranger to precede him off the beach.   
“Pretty girl,” said the stranger, before he had even turned away from the fire. “Your girlfriend?”   
“Yes,” said Minseok automatically, with more force than he intended. He felt his temper beginning to rise. He wanted this man gone from here. He wanted him to stop looking at [y/n]. So even though it wasn’t strictly true, he needed this man to know that talking about her wasn’t acceptable. He had been watching, with mounting anger, how this man had stared at her since he arrived. He was also mildly alarmed by the way he had kept mentioning ‘friends.’ If the car started, he would take [y/n] back to Seoul directly. He estimated that he could make it back in an hour and a half if he drove as fast as he was allowed, and everything about his encounter on the beach assured him that ‘as fast as possible’ was the speed he wanted right now. But if the car wouldn’t start… well, Minseok began to formulate a plan. But he needed to get this creep away from here first.  
“Been together long?” the man asked, as they made their way through the dunes. Minseok shrugged, unwilling to give any kind of an answer.  
They reached the car, an old light-blue Civic. Minseok thought that his own car would probably drain all the power from this if the stranger even had jump cables. As it turned out, he didn’t. The hatchback had a lot of things spread around the interior, black plastic bags and blankets, and something that looked like a tradesman’s toolkit. And bottles. Lots of empty bottles of cheap whisky and soju. Minseok saw some camo gear balled up in the well where a spare tyre should be.  
“Which division did you serve in?” he asked, trying to make conversation while the man looked around for jump cables.  
“Pardon me?”  
“For your service. Or were you a career soldier?” Minseok gestured towards the camo gear. The man looked at it silently for a few seconds.  
“I didn’t,” he said simply. “I didn’t have to go.”   
Minseok pondered the implications of that statement and decided it was safer to change the subject.   
After rooting around fruitlessly for a few minutes while Minseok asked him about his car, to keep his nerves occupied more than anything else, the stranger straightened up and took out a half-empty bottle of whisky. He took a deep draft and offered the bottle to Minseok.  
“No, thank you,” he said, hoping his disgust didn’t show on his face.   
“She doesn’t like it?” the stranger gestured back to the fire, where [y/n] stood watching them.   
Minseok forced a mirthless laugh, neither agreement or disagreement.   
“I don’t have jump cables,” said the stranger, “but I could drive you over to the filling station in the village.” The stranger gestured at his car, where only the drivers and front passenger side seat wasn’t covered in debris and bottles. Minseok didn’t even have to consider this option to dismiss it. Even if this man wasn’t throwing up enough behavioural red flags to make [y/n] and Sehun’s obsession with true crime documentaries as guides for life seem like good sense, there was no way he was getting into a car with someone who had been drinking. And he wouldn’t leave [y/n] on the beach by herself, either.   
“No, thanks, we’ll just wait for my friends.”   
This wasn’t entirely a lie. His manager had told him that someone would be out in the morning to start the car. Minseok was cursing himself now for not just asking the manager to come immediately with jump cables. He wasn’t very good with cars but he realised now that they were all he needed to get the car started again.   
The stranger started talking again. This time, he was staring at [y/n] again.  
“If you like, I can take your girl into town. There’s a motel there. At least she wouldn’t have to stay out here in the cold.”   
“No, thank you,” Minseok said firmly. Stepping to the side and cutting off the man’s line of sight to [y/n] on the beach. “She’s...ah, she’s a bit nervous of strangers,” he said. He was hoping that if he was polite to this man he might leave soon.  
“I can see that,” the stranger said. “A shy type.” He licked his lips and Minseok felt sick. He wanted to sprint back to [y/n] right now and had to force himself to stay put.  
“Maybe I could drive you both in. We could probably get her in the back, if I move those…” the man gestured to the lumpy black sacks on the rear seat. “The seat backs are around here somewhere. Or she can sit up front.” He looked Minseok up and down and licked his lips again. “You could both fit on that front seat, if she doesn’t mind sitting a bit close.”  
Minseok balled his fists, but stopped himself before he could show this man how angry he really was.   
“I don’t think she’d be okay with that,” Minseok said gritting his teeth.  
The man raised his eyebrows suggestively.  
“Holding out, is she? Is that why you brought her all the way out here?”   
“What?” Minseok felt his temper begin to boil over. One more lascivious look, one suggestive comment about [y/n], and Minseok knew that his good sense to keep the stranger on-side would be overtaken by his need to break his nose.   
“It’s cold here,” said the man. He took the bottle and shut the car, walking back towards the beach. Minseok overtook him, anxious to keep himself between the man and [y/n].   
“I didn’t get your name,” he said, but the man pretended not to hear, looking out towards the sea. 

[y/n] didn’t want to sit down. She was afraid she might have to run any second, towards the car park or away from it. She hugged her arms around herself and watched the car park, the silhouettes of Minseok and the man against the glare from the street lamp until her eyes stung from not blinking. Why had Minseok gone with that creep? She had watched them walk away, gauging the distance between them the entire time, feeling her anxiety for Minseok mount the longer he was gone. What if the guy did something to him while they were at the car? What if he had something in his car? She knew Minseok could handle himself in a fight but what were combat skills if this weirdo had a knife? Or a gun; or a bottle of chloroform and a rag, and he got behind- no. She stopped herself from imagining the multiple scenarios running through her mind. She forced herself not to think about every movie or documentary she had ever seen on killers in remote places like this.   
She tried to focus her mind on something else but when she wasn’t imagining all of the terrible things this man could do to Minseok, she just kept coming back to what the man had said before he went back to his car to check for jump cables. He had seen them earlier. She remembered there being another car there earlier, the one that didn’t belong to the family. She had assumed that the woman who ran the kiosk owned it, but that woman had sped off on a moped while [y/n] was waiting for the bus. So the person who had been in the other car was this weird man, who had come...back...to the beach. Why? She was starting to panic again. This was what worried her most of all - what had this man come back for? And why had he asked them if they were local? Was he trying to find out if anyone would miss them? Was that why Minseok insisted that they were waiting for friends? What would the man do if he found out they had been lying?  
Minseok arrived back at the fire ahead of the stranger. She winced at how he had exposed his back. She wished she had some battery left in her phone or some way of communicating to him all of the ways he was exposing himself to getting murdered here.   
“Are you okay?” she asked quickly when he reached her. He motioned for her to sit and she let him guide her as he sat down next to her. He nodded, looked at her, hesitated, then put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her to him. It was a gesture of concern and solidarity, and even though she was starting to really worry about who this weirdo was and why he wouldn’t leave them alone, she felt comforted by it. She moved closer to Minseok.   
The man sat down across the little fire from them. He had a bottle of whiskey and was holding it theatrically, like it was a prop. He didn’t drink from it, just considered the bottle, read the label out loud, and told them about the brand even though neither of them asked.   
“Would you like a sip?” he asked [y/n] several times, and even if she hadn’t been deeply unsettled by this man in general, the fact that he kept insisting she taste whatever was in a bottle that he was not drinking from himself would have set all alarm bells ringing. She could barely concentrate on anything but her own panic.   
“It’ll keep you warm,” the man said, holding the bottle out again.   
“She’s fine,” Minseok said. His patience must have been wearing thin because he squeezed her shoulder, pulling her closer to him. Her head was almost on his shoulder now. It occurred to [y/n], cutting through her panic or maybe even because of it, that he was never this brave when there wasn’t a creepy stranger and an unsettling situation to navigate. It almost made her laugh, a nervous impulse that was almost as disturbing as this weirdo who was even now staring intently at her.   
“You’re very quiet,” the man said, ignoring Minseok. “Not a camping fan? You should have told your boyfriend that. You could have caught the last bus. I told him I could take you into town, stay in a nice motel. Both of you, if you like. Or just you. Would you like that?” His voice sped up the longer he talked and he licked his lips. [y/n] almost crawled backwards to put more distance between them; she probably would have moved back if Minseok wasn’t gripping her so tightly she could barely move.   
“Well?” the man prompted. He seemed to be waiting for an answer. Minseok opened his mouth, but [y/n] spoke before he could answer for her again. Her nerves were starting to fray.   
“No,” she said simply. “I’m fine.”   
“She speaks,” the man said, and then giggled to himself. He finally took a swig from the bottle. He shook himself all over.   
“It’s breezy on this side of the fire,” he said suddenly, and began to move around towards her, skittering over the sand like a cockroach. She could see that he was aiming to sit on her other side. [y/n] stood up quickly. Minseok glanced up at her in surprise, then stood up too. The man stopped, one hand reached out in her direction.   
“Um, bathroom,” [y/n] muttered, and turned in the direction of the utility block.   
“I’ll go with you,” Minseok said, reaching out and taking her hand. She was so grateful she almost dragged him away. Before they could move, though, a noise cut through the quiet. A monophonic ringtone, like the kind old mobile phones had, but muffled slightly by heavy denim.   
“Ah,” said the man, as if surprised at the sound that was issuing from the pocket of his own jeans. He fished around in his pocket, his shoes perilously close to the fire as he stretched out his leg to get the phone out. Whoever it was, he hadn’t saved their name in his contacts.  
“Who is this?” he demanded as he answered. [y/n] watched as his expression changed from mild annoyance to delight. “Hyungnim!” he exclaimed, and then gathered his legs under himself, standing gracelessly and glancing around as if he expected the caller to appear. [y/n] felt a thrill of new fear, of something that hadn’t occurred to her because she had assumed this weird man was a creepy loner at best and a serial killer at probable worst. And they tended to work alone. Now he had introduced the possibility of more people on the beach. The feeling of exposure that [y/n] had been experiencing since the man turned up intensified.   
Minseok hadn’t moved. The man was putting on a show for them, answering abruptly and dramatically to whatever was being asked of him on the phone, and then his face broke out in a grin. It wasn’t like the suggestive looks he had been giving her all night; somehow it was worse, this look of anticipation.  
“It’s a nice night for it.” He looked right at [y/n]. “They’re still here,” he said, and she felt a thrill of new terror. They? Was he talking about her and Minseok?!   
“Yes. I’m on my way, hyungnim,” the man said into the phone, and then hung up. He made a gleeful noise. [y/n] didn’t want to know what kind of people this man referred to as his friends.   
“They need a ride,” he said. “I need to go pick them up. You’ll like them, they like this beach,” he said, and made to move off, back towards the car park. [y/n] almost felt relieved until she realised what he had said - what did he mean they would like them? The man approached Minseok, who held his ground but looked ready to bolt at any second, his hand gripping [y/n]’s tightly. The stranger clapped him on the shoulder. He turned to [y/n].  
“I won’t be long. Don’t miss me,” he bowed slightly and reached out his hand and held it there like he actually expected her to shake it. When she didn’t move, he reached forward suddenly and grabbed her wrist, bringing it up to his lips. [y/n] was too shocked to even scream, and a wave of nausea hit her as she felt the scrape of his teeth on her skin before Minseok shoved the man back with enough force to knock him to the ground.   
Minseok stood between [y/n] and the man, holding her behind him. The man climbed slowly to his feet, chuckling to himself. He put up his hands and backed away.  
“Okay, okay. You don’t want to share, I get it.”  
“Leave,” Minseok said, his voice quiet but steady. [y/n] had never heard him angry like this.   
“I’m going,” said the man. “I’ll get you some jump cables in town, for your car. Maybe some beers,” he said. “We’ll be back soon. Beach party!” He made that gleeful noise again, that cut through [y/n] like jagged glass. She stood behind Minseok, watching over his shoulder as the man climbed into his car and, without turning on the headlights, sped out of the car park, and off in the direction of the lights at the other end of the bay.   
Minseok whirled around as soon as he was gone and wrapped his arms around her.   
“Are you okay?” he asked, voice muffled by her hair.   
“No,” she said. “What- Minseok, I’m scared.” She could hear the tremble in her voice and it wasn’t from the cold.   
Minseok drew back. He held her face, grazing his thumbs lightly over her cheekbones. His hands were warm.   
“We have to go,” Minseok said, looking intently at her. “We have to get off this beach before he comes back.”


	6. Bad Dream

The door to the coffee kiosk was locked. Minseok assumed it would be, and had come prepared. After trying the handle, he fished the chopsticks he had brought from the camp out of his pocket.   
“What are those for?” [y/n] asked. It was the first thing she had said since leaving the camp. He was worried about her. He was trying not to panic about the weird man coming back, too. He knew he was running on pure adrenaline right now. He schooled his features into a smile, hoping to reassure [y/n]. If there was one thing he could do it was smile when he was exhausted.   
“A trick I learned from Baekhyun,” he said. “I can use them to pick the lock.” This was bravado; he had managed to do this exactly once, four years ago. He had almost swore in relief when he saw that the lock on the door was old-fashioned, a keyhole like the bathroom door in the dorm. He was committed to breaking down the door with his shoulder if it didn’t work, in any case, but he would rather not injure himself. He might still need to fight someone tonight. He crouched in front of the lock and fiddled with the chopsticks, taking a deep breath to steady his hands and keep from jerking the chopsticks out of the lock. He broke one of them in half to make it smaller and got to work.   
Later, he would never be able to replicate his movements, but he managed to get the door open in just over a minute. He still had to force the handle a bit. He had some money in his wallet; he would leave all of it for Ms Choi if they managed to get out of this place.   
The inside of the kiosk was dark with the hatch up, and there was only one small window, high-up on the other side of the small room. No one would be able to see inside, at least. He ushered [y/n] inside.   
“There’s no light,” he said, not that he would turn it on anyway. “The generator isn’t on. Sorry. Shut the door and don’t open it for anything unless you hear my voice, okay?”  
[y/n] stopped inside the door and swung around to face him. She didn’t seem to have heard him.   
“You learned that trick from Baekhyun?” she gestured to the chopsticks, still in his hand.   
“Um, yes. I’ve never- that went a lot better than when he showed me the first time,” Minseok said. Did she think it was weird? She gave him a faint smile.  
“You have all these skills I didn’t know about, like picking locks or making ramen in a bag. It’s cute.”   
Minseok felt his face get hot. He turned to go. “I’ll be back in a minute,” he said.  
“Where are you going? You’re leaving me?” Her little smile disappeared and she looked terrified again. Minseok was starting to worry; the car had been gone for ten minutes; how long would it take the man to get to the town and back?   
“It’s freezing in here, I’m just going back for the sleeping bag,” Minseok explained, reaching out and putting his hands on [y/n]’s shoulders. She probably thought he kept touching her, holding her, kissing her, to reassure her but that was only partly true. He was also trying to reassure himself. If he was comforting her, it was like he was doing something. He felt so helpless. It was all his fault, taking her all the way out here. Leaving the lights on when they left the car. Not charging his phone properly before he left. He hated himself right now. Holding her hand was about the only thing he could do that didn’t make him want to walk into the sea. How could she still even like him after this? Would she, once - if - they got out of here?  
“Minseok, don’t go, you don’t need to go back to the camp. It’s not that cold,” [y/n] said quietly. He could see her breath even in the dark, belying her words. But he could also hear the fear in her voice; fear for him, fear of being left alone. She took hold of his coat pockets, keeping him in place. If he hadn’t been desperately anxious about the stranger coming back, this whole scene - her holding him like this - would be romantic. For a second - just a second - he let himself take in the moment in case she never spoke to him again after this.   
“You’ll freeze. I’ll be right back, I promise,” he said. He stepped in before he could think too much about it, knowing if he stayed here any longer he wouldn’t be able to leave her even for a minute. He kissed her lightly on the forehead. “Stay here. Lock the door when I go. Don’t open the door for anyone but me.” He gently pulled her hands away from his pockets and stepped back, dragging the door shut behind him and waited until he heard the satisfying ‘clunk’ of the lock being secured. Then, he took off back in the direction of the camp, sprinting over the sand.   
He had watched the car until the lights were a distant pinprick, and he hadn’t heard it come back so he was certain the man was gone. But he wasn’t naive enough - not now, anyway, not after the last hour or so of that man’s company - to think that he wouldn’t come back. There had been a hunger in his expression when he looked at [y/n] that Minseok had never associated with a human before. He shuddered when he thought about it, speeding up and reaching the camp in seconds.   
The first thing he did was kick sand over the fire. The stranger knew where they were camped in relation to the car park but Minseok wasn’t about to make it too easy for him. Thankfully, the tent was one of those foldable ones, so he dragged out the guy lines and, stooping to pull out the sleeping bag and bedroll, he quickly folded it up. He looked at the car and thought about running the tent back and storing it, and then dismissed the thought. It was too many steps. He wanted to get back to [y/n]. He needed to get back to [y/n]. She was terrified and so was he; at least when he was with her he could focus on being brave. Out here, on his own, he was starting to panic. He grabbed the sleeping bag and bedroll and scooped two bottles of water from their little stash of food and then ran back to the kiosk. The sound of a car engine could be heard in the distance. 

The kiosk was freezing. The walls were concrete. The floor was concrete. The only thing that wasn’t concrete was the metal shutter. There was a single high stool with plastic upholstery by the counter near the shutter, and when [y/n] sat on it to keep from pacing the room, she felt somehow even colder. There was a draught seeping in from under the shutter somehow, and through the thin pane of glass on the high window. She hugged her parka tightly to herself. How long had Minseok been gone? Should she have gone with him? She couldn’t understand why he had gone back to the camp, when he could have just picked up whatever he needed before they left. She supposed that he hadn’t known if they would get into the kiosk. If they had to run for cover somewhere else, leaving a trail of camping equipment in their wake was a surefire way to get caught. Would the stranger be back soon? She didn’t want to think about him, or whatever he had planned.   
She paced the tiny room. She wasn’t even that cold any more, she just couldn’t sit still while Minseok was out there on that beach somewhere. What if the stranger hadn’t left? What if he was still there. That thought brought her to a standstill. What if he was still out there, and Minseok was in danger? She eyed the door. Should she check on him? No. She shook her head. Minseok had told her to stay put. She should stay put.   
[y/n] sat down on the stool then stood up again. She kept thinking about how he had looked at her when he said “they’re still here.” She rubbed her hand on her knee, then walked over to the little sink by the coffee machine and ran her hand under the ice-cold water, scrubbing it with soap. She wanted all microscopic traces of that creep off her skin. “They’re still here,” he’d said. Who had he talked to on the phone, and why had he told them about her and Minseok earlier? Had this been planned? What was he planning next? A horrible thought crossed her mind. What if the strange man was the reason the car hadn’t started? She shook her head as if she could dislodge the thought. She picked up the soap and washed her hands again.  
She was drying herself with a towel when she heard a scuffling noise on the concrete outside. Her heart pounded and she stood stock-still. Was the creep back already? Had the waste-water from the tap made a noise outside? She bit her lip and strained her ears. Was that a footstep?  
“[y/n], it’s me,” Minseok’s soft voice sounded from beyond the door. [y/n] let out a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding and ran to the door, snapping back the lock and pulling it open. Minseok rushed inside and kicked the door shut after him.   
“Lock it quickly,” he said in a panicked whisper. [y/n]’s heart started to pound again. She locked the door. Minseok handed her the sleeping bag, and dropped the bedroll and two bottles of water on the floor, then looked around the room. Spotting the stool, he dragged it over to the window and climbed up to look through. [y/n] couldn’t move.  
“What’s going on?” she asked. She was also whispering.   
“There’s a car,” Minseok said.   
“Will they see you in the window?”   
“No, it’s too small and it’s dark,” he said. He looked around. “Wrap that sleeping bag around you, if you want,” he said. “You look frozen.”   
[y/n] shook her head and placed the sleeping bag on the floor, walking over to him. He looked down at her from where he stood on the footrest of the stool and gave her a small smile. She tried to return it, but it came out as more of a grimace. She reached out and touched his arm tentatively, and he dropped his hand, taking hers. His gaze was fixed intently on the beach outside.   
“Well?”  
After what seemed like forever, but was probably only half a minute, [y/n] heard it - the car. She heard it get closer and then - a whoosh - it was gone, past them, along the coast road in the other direction. It hadn’t even slowed down.   
Minseok visibly crumpled against the window, dropping into a crouch that meant he was sitting on the high stool, his free hand on his forehead. [y/n] could see that he was shaking.   
“That wasn’t him,” he said, unnecessarily. He looked up at her. He looked wretched. “[y/n],” he said, and squeezed her hand. “[y/n], I’m so sorry.”

If she never spoke to him again after this, Minseok would understand. The sprint back from the camp to the kiosk had been one of the tensest moments of his life. If the car sped up, if they saw him running… he had been prepared to keep going, to draw them away from [y/n] if they gave chase. When the car sped past them, all of the energy that had been fuelling their panicked movements, that had been driving him really since the strange man came on to the beach in the first place, drained out of him. He apologised to [y/n] and shut his eyes, leaning his forehead against the wall. When she let go of his hand, he assumed it was out of disgust. That’s how he felt about himself right now, he expected that she felt the same. He had brought her all the way out here, and now they were trapped in this situation, without any means of getting help or getting out of it. So when she stepped in close to him and put her arms around him, he was so surprised he didn’t move for a second. Then, he leaned in to her, resting his head on her shoulder and wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her to him. It was an awkward hug, with him sitting down and her standing up, but he let her hold him like that for as long as she wanted. If she wanted to stand here all night like this, he would let her. He closed his eyes.   
“What time is it?” she asked eventually, and he drew back reluctantly. She gave him a small smile that did nothing to soften the fear that still showed all over her face. She was pale, even in the dark. Minseok checked his watch.   
“It’s late,” he said. “It’ll be midnight soon.” The stranger had been on the beach with them for over an hour, he realised. It had seemed like longer, and also like no time had passed at all since they had been sitting quietly on the beach by themselves after dinner. He couldn’t believe that this had happened the one time he brought someone else here. All of those times he had camped on this beach by himself and been left alone…   
“Minseok,” [y/n] said, cutting through his introspection. He looked up. [y/n] went on. “Do you think… the car, is it a coincidence? That he was just there, and saw us.”  
“You think he might have drained my battery somehow?”  
“Yeah. Do you?”   
Minseok wondered whether or not he should talk to her about this. When the stranger had first mentioned the jump cables, the idea that he might have been responsible for the drained battery had lodged itself at the back of his brain and refused to budge. The thought was horrifying, but also…   
“No,” he said. “It wasn’t the man. I left the lights on.” Saying it out loud made him feel worse, but he also didn’t want her to think he was absolving himself of responsibility for this mess. As awful as it would be to think that some predatory watcher had drained the battery on purpose, it was also an easy way out for Minseok. He could agree with her, tell her that it was the strange man, and she would probably go along with it, but he would know that it was him. He would be absolving himself of nothing. “No,” he said again. “It was my fault.” He almost put his head in his hands again, but his hands were still looped around [y/n]’s waist. She seemed to realise what he was about to do, and stepped in to hug him again. He let her.   
“What if he comes back?” [y/n] asked. Minseok could hear the fear in her voice. He wished he could do… something. He squeezed her once and then let go, standing up and taking in the rest of the room. He picked up the bedroll and shook it out, laying it flat on the floor against the wall where the window was.   
“I’ll keep a look-out. Maybe… do you think you could sleep?” he asked. She shook her head; he expected that.   
“Well, you should at least be warm.” He picked up the sleeping bag, unravelled it and opened the zip on the side, handing it to her.  
“Get warm,” he said, looking around the room distractedly. He couldn’t focus. He was trying to listen for the sound of a car as well as talk to her. His nerves were shot, but she was looking at him expectantly and he wanted to make her feel safe. “You’ll need to take your jacket off, though. Use it as a buffer between you and the wall. The sleeping bag won’t be much use through your jacket.”   
He reached out and began to unzip her jacket. When the zip was halfway down, he realised what he was doing and snatched his hand back. She was staring at him, open mouthed.   
“Um, sorry,” he mumbled, looking away. “You can probably do that yourself.”   
Minseok stood up on the footrest of the stool again and looked out the window. What was he thinking? He heard her shuck off her jacket and sit down against the wall. 

“Are you okay?” Minseok had been asking this question every couple of minutes since he had started his vigil by the window.  
“I’m scared,” [y/n] said, like she said last time. She looked up at him and saw that he was leaning against the window, elbows propped on the sill. In any other situation, she would think he was bored. There was an alertness to his manner, though.   
“Is this what you did in the army? Sit and watch?” she asked suddenly.   
“I can’t tell you that,” he said and shot her a conspiratorial smile that she returned in spite of the situation. He went back to looking out the window.   
“Minseok,” she said, and he looked at her again. “Talk to me,” she said. “If you leave me alone in my own head I’ll just start to panic again. Or more.”   
“Sorry,” Minseok said. “I was trying to keep quiet so we would hear anyone. If that guy did come back…” She thought that he was probably attempting to sound doubtful. He looked out the window once more, nodded to himself, then climbed down off the stool. He walked over to where she was and sat down heavily next to her. He unzipped his own jacket like she had and pulled his arms out of the sleeves. He seemed exhausted. [y/n] lifted the sleeping bag from where it was draped across her knees and held it out to him. He took it and covered both of their legs with it, moving to sit closer to her. His elbow was pressed into hers; [y/n] decided that hesitation had no place in a hiding-from-a-potential-murderer situation and slid her arms around his waist. He was still for a second, and then raised his arm to wrap around her shoulder. She settled into the crook of his arm. He was warm and his black hoodie was soft against her cheek.   
“Minseok,” [y/n] said, trying to lighten her tone. She thought that if she tried to sound like she wasn’t scared witless she might fool herself into believing it. Minseok made a noise to indicate that he had heard her. “You told the stranger that I was your girlfriend, when he asked.”   
Minseok stilled again. He didn’t say anything. [y/n] felt her face get hot. Had she misread the situation?  
“He… I didn’t want him to think you were… um. You can be. I mean, I’d like it if you were my girlfriend. If you want to be,” he muttered into the darkness. [y/n] could hear his heart beat faster and, even with everything that was going on, she was able to smile at his shyness.   
“I didn’t think you liked me, especially after today,” she said.   
“Why wouldn’t I like you?” Minseok asked, like it was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard.   
“Why would you?” [y/n] replied. “I spent our entire first date making stupid jokes about murders and movies you hadn’t seen-”  
“And talking about Sehunnie,” Minseok said quickly. [y/n] started and looked up at him.  
“Sehun’s my friend,” she said lamely. Minseok smiled at her in the dark. She loved his smile, how he didn’t seem to be able to control it and that it was a little gummy and how his big eyes would crinkle up at the edges. For the first time since he had turned up, she forgot about the creep for a couple of seconds as she looked at him.   
“I know he’s your friend,” Minseok said, patting her shoulder, drawing her closer to him. “I know. I was just… I like you. I really like you. I thought you and Sehun-”  
“No,” [y/n] said quickly, eager to disabuse him of that notion. Sehun was like a cousin or a brother - a best friend. There was nothing romantic about their friendship at all.   
“No?”  
“No,” she said again, firmly. “We go shopping and watch movies, friend stuff. Sehun and I talk a lot about about true crime and-” she stopped, unsure if she should go on. Minseok prompted her, and she shut her eyes. “And I talk to Sehun about you because I like you and he knows.”   
Minseok was quiet for a second and then he chuckled softly.  
“Um, earlier… when I was grumpy and tried to drive us back to Seoul. That was because of Sehun. You were talking about him. Maybe I was worried you’d tell me something like you liked him. I don’t know. I can see now that I was kind of off the mark.” [y/n] gaped at him, so he decided it was fair to give her something on him. “I talk about you too. Not with Sehun. With Kyungsoo. He knows I like you.” He nudged her gently. She thought back to all of the times Kyungsoo had suggested Minseok leave the bar or walk her home. Did he know that she liked Minseok too? That suddenly made sense now. Kyungsoo, the scheming matchmaker. That babyface was hiding a devious mastermind all along. She liked Kyungsoo a lot more now.   
They were quiet for a few minutes, listening to the waves in the distance. There was nothing in the sounds outside that could be a car or people. [y/n] settled her head on Minseok’s shoulder and he rested his head on top of hers. If they weren’t hiding from a potential murderer in an insecure kiosk on a deserted beach in the middle of the night, this might almost seem romantic. [y/n] felt a stab of anger towards the stranger for ruining this for her by making her afraid.   
“What’s wrong with him?” she asked Minseok in a quiet voice. She didn’t have to say who. Minseok shrugged.  
“I don’t know. At first I just thought he was a bit harmless and I felt kind of sorry for him. Then… it wasn’t even that he was drinking because he didn’t seem drunk, but it was almost like he wanted to scare us. When he said he had been watching us earlier. And, you didn’t see the inside of his car.”  
“What was it like?”  
“Filthy,” Minseok said with disgust. “It was full of bottles and paper and black sacks of… stuff.”   
[y/n]’s eyes widened. Her throat went dry.  
“What was in the black sacks?”  
“I don’t know,” Minseok said. He sounded vaguely sick, but that could just be because he didn’t like mess at the best of times. “Seemed like lots of stuff, piles of things like clothes maybe. I couldn’t really see. It smelled terrible.”  
[y/n]’s heart was hammering. This creep was driving around in a car full of lumpy black sacks of… things. Bodies? No. She wouldn’t think about that. They weren’t out of this yet.   
“You said you felt sorry for him at first…” she prompted Minseok.  
“Yeah,” he said. “He didn’t have to enlist, so I thought maybe he was exempt for mental health reasons or something. Maybe he was, there are a few reasons they might have exempted him. I didn’t ask.”  
“He told you he didn’t enlist?”  
“Yeah. He seemed kind of proud of it. Like he had dodged it or something. And then… then he kept staring at you, and I didn’t like the way he talked about you, over at the car.”  
“What did he say?”  
“Nothing… good,” Minseok said lamely. [y/n] decided that she didn’t want to know. She was already sick enough with fear. “I don’t think he was drunk. I think he wanted us to think he was, like maybe it would make him seem harmless. And then the way he kept talking about his friends… and it seemed like he felt like he had all the time in the world…” Minseok trailed off.  
“Do you think he’ll come back?” [y/n] asked, when Minseok didn’t say anything for a few minutes.   
“Yes,” he said, and [y/n] nearly cried when he said it because hearing him say it confirmed to her that her conviction that he would come back was shared. That made it more real. Minseok adjusted his arm and the sleeping bag so [y/n] was curled more closely against him. He turned in towards her and wrapped his other arm around her shoulders, drawing his scarf up around her face. She felt protected, when she was with him. They weren’t safe, but she felt like he would do anything to take care of her.   
“Minseok, I want to be your girlfriend, if that’s okay with you,” [y/n] said, her voice muffled by his hoodie. His chin, where it rested on the top of her head, twitched slightly. She wondered if he was smiling.   
“Yes,” he said. “That’s okay with me.”


	7. Monster

The man came back at 2 am. Minseok had got up again a few minutes before to check the window. He’d been getting up every twenty minutes, and happened to be there when he came back. [y/n] was starting to calm down again, her mind drifting away from the panic that had shot through her thoughts for the last few hours, when the sound of a car engine in the distance roused both her and Minseok from the comfortable silence that had settled between them.   
“Is it him?” [y/n] asked, moving to stand up. Minseok waved at her to sit down again. She did. She was so worried she didn’t think her legs would support her weight anyway. She watched Minseok as he drew his hood up around his face, shadowing himself and looking through the window intently.   
“It’s him,” he said, after what felt like an age. [y/n] heard the slamming of car doors in the distance. Her throat was dry. “There’s three of them,” Minseok said.   
“Maybe you should get away from the window, in case they see you,” [y/n] said. Minseok nodded and climbed down from the chair. He stood in the centre of the room for a couple of seconds. [y/n] wished he would sit down. That he would put his arm around her. She folded the sleeping bag neatly and set it beside her, so that they could move easily if they had to. She was about to suggest he sit down with her again when he slapped his hand against his forehead.   
“The chopstick,” he whispered. He looked towards the door.  
“Minseok, no,” [y/n] whispered back, in what she hoped was a firm voice.   
“I’ll just-”  
“No,” [y/n] whispered again. This time, it was frustration that shook her words. Minseok looked at her in surprise. She had had enough of him putting himself in danger.   
“Sit down. Please. I need you here. If you go out there, they’ll hear the door. They’ll know we’re here.” Her voice broke on the last word. She knew she was close to crying. Minseok did too, it seemed, because he dropped into a crouch beside her and put his hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him, blurred as he was by her oncoming tears. He seemed about to say something, but voices outside shocked them both into silence.  
“The car is still here.” [y/n] recognised the voice of the stranger.   
“They can’t be far.” A woman’s voice this time. “It’s freezing. Maybe they just moved their camp.”   
“I don’t think so,” said a third voice, deeper than the stranger’s. “The tent’s still there.”  
The voices were coming closer, and the scuff of footsteps on concrete announced their arrival on the little concrete platform where the kiosk and utility block were. [y/n] was paralysed by fear. Minseok moved closer to her, snaking his arm around her shoulders and drawing her closer to him. She could hear his heart beating quickly, his breath coming in quiet, panicked bursts.   
They heard the footsteps walking around outside, heard the three people discussing where they could have gone. Why were they looking for them at all? The stranger and his friends stopped outside the metal hatch.   
“Who are they, anyway?” asked the deep voice.   
“A nice couple,” the stranger said. “The boy is something to look at.” The stranger let out a high-pitched giggle. [y/n] felt sick.   
“His girlfriend is pretty too, though. You’ll like her, hyungnim. She’s the shy type. And the boy has a jealous streak, too. Twice the fun.”   
The deep voice laughed throatily and [y/n] felt new fear piercing through what she had felt before. This was cold, unsheathed terror. She pressed herself closer to Minseok and felt his grip tighten around her shoulder.   
The voices moved around the side of the kiosk, footsteps stopping near the door where [y/n] could see a sliver of shadow against the ambient light breaking through the tiny space under the door.   
“What did you say to them?” the woman asked, clearly annoyed now.   
“Nothing,” the stranger said defensively.   
“I don’t believe you,” she said, and there was a dull thump. “You scared off the last one too.”  
“Ow, noona, that hurt. And it’s not fair.”  
“It’s not,” said the deep voice, the older man. “We found her in the end, didn’t we?” The older man and the stranger shared a conspiratorial laugh that [y/n] felt in the pit of her stomach. She was lightheaded from fear.   
“I didn’t say anything,” the stranger said to the woman, after a moment. “They have nowhere to go and no way to get there. Where would they go?” The stranger started to sound impatient now. [y/n] watched the door intently, wondering how long it might take for them to realise that this was the only place she and Minseok could have gone.   
The door handle rattled. [y/n] stopped breathing. Even in the darkness, she could see it shake in the tiny amount of reflected light coming through the window, as someone tried to open the door from the outside. The sound of it boomed through the room, the loudest thing she had ever heard. Minseok was still beside her, unmoving. [y/n] couldn’t seem to breathe normally, and she gasped quietly. Minseok started and pulled her close to him. She buried her face in his hoodie, no longer able to look at the door. He held her tight and she felt him press his lips lightly to the top of her head. Reassurance, even now. [y/n] couldn’t think. She didn’t want to hear the noise of someone trying to get in. There would be no hiding if they broke down that door.   
“What’s in here-” the woman started, but was interrupted by a scuffling and a crash on the concrete as a heavy body hit the ground. There was a lot of swearing.   
“Hyungnim!” the stranger shouted. [y/n] looked up at Minseok, who was staring at the door, wide-eyed.   
“This-” the deep-voiced man swore loudly and at length at something, and [y/n] heard someone - presumably him - climb to his feet.   
“What happened?” the woman asked, confusion more than concern in her voice.   
“I slipped on this thing,” the deep-voiced man said.   
“What is it?” asked the woman.  
“Looks like a pencil,” the stranger said. “Or half a chopstick. Mmm.”   
“Ew,” said the woman. “Don’t pick your teeth with that thing, it’s been on the ground.”   
“I’ve put filthier things in my mouth,” the stranger shot back, gleefully. [y/n] felt sick again.   
The deep-voiced man slipping had distracted the others from the door, and they left. They must have walked off the platform, because [y/n] could hear their receding voices but not their footsteps.   
“I think they’re walking off the other way,” Minseok whispered. [y/n] nodded. She didn’t trust herself to say anything. Minseok relaxed a little, dropping out of the crouch to lean against the wall. He didn’t let go of [y/n] and she was grateful for that. Holding onto him was the only thing keeping her from falling apart. She could feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins, keeping her on-edge and alert. She wondered how long it would be before the stranger and his friends gave up.   
“What do they want from us?” she asked quietly, after a couple of seconds. Minseok shrugged.  
“Nothing good,” he said. “There’s something sinister about the way they keep talking about us. And they said there was someone…” Minseok trailed off but [y/n] knew what he meant. What ‘last one’? [y/n], for the millionth time since Minseok’s car hadn’t started, desperately wished her phone still held a charge. If she had her phone, she would find out if anyone had gone missing out here before. She shook herself. Right now, it was maybe best not to know.   
After a couple of minutes, she heard the voices again, coming back towards them.

Minseok swore under his breath when he heard the stranger and his friends climb onto the concrete platform again. He held the shaking [y/n] and surveyed the room again. He had done this every few minutes since coming in here. There was the stool, and the advantage of the space. It was small in here, and he only had one point of vulnerability: [y/n]. They had the numbers, but they probably didn’t expect him to fight either. If the door looked like it was going to open, he would pick up the stool and rush the door. If he could get them outside, he could shout at [y/n] to run. Would she? Her grip tightened on his hoodie, like she knew what he was thinking. Fierce protectiveness surged through him at the thought of anyone hurting her.   
“Let’s go,” the woman said. She sounded bored.   
“We’ve only been here a little while,” the stranger said. “They can’t be far. His car is here, he has to come back for it by morning.”   
“Too late then,” the woman said. Minseok didn’t want to think about what she was implying they would be too late for.   
“What’s this place?” the older, deep-voiced man. Minseok felt a spike of adrenaline. He sat up into a crouch, ready to move if he had to. [y/n] noticed his movement and did the same. She looked at him, wild-eyed. He shook his head - no, not yet - and kissed her forehead softly. She seemed to be holding her breath. They both watched the door.   
“They sell coffee during the day,” said the stranger.  
“Maybe your friends got inside,” the woman said, and the handle rattled. Minseok watched it, heart beating fast. A fist pounded on the wood.  
“Anyone inside?” the woman shouted, and laughed. The handle rattled again.  
“They lock up at night, so unless the pretty boy picked the lock, they wouldn’t have been able to get in,” said the stranger. Minseok held his breath. What if they remembered the chopstick? It was an inelegant lock-picking technique, he knew, but maybe these people knew about it. They seemed like criminals, after all.   
“There’s nothing in there at night, anyway,” the stranger went on. The way he said it made Minseok think that he had broken into this place before. Minseok looked at the metal hatch-shutter with new eyes. It hadn’t been here last time, he realised. The shutter last time had been wooden, less secure. As if he had heard Minseok’s thoughts, a loud noise like a knuckle rapping against the hatch burst through the silence. [y/n] started, and Minseok held her tight. The stranger’s high-pitched laugh sounded again as he passed the hatch. Minseok was almost relieved to hear it, since it meant they had left the door alone. The footsteps stopped outside of the window.   
“That doesn’t open,” the stranger said, seemingly in answer to a question nobody asked out loud. The window, he must be talking about.   
“More trouble than it’s worth, if there’s no cash inside,” the deep-voiced man said. “Have a look, see if there’s anything worth breaking in for.”   
[y/n] made a small noise. Minseok looked down at her but she wasn’t looking at him. She was looking at a bottle of water that he had left in the middle of the floor. They were right under the window, so the stranger wouldn’t see them if he just looked in since he couldn’t look straight down, but he might see the bottle… and know they were there.   
Before he could stop her, [y/n] lunged forward and grabbed the bottle. Minseok had just enough time to yank her backwards, wrapping his arms tightly around her so she was pressed to his chest, when the little light that was seeping through the window from outside was blocked by someone looking in. Minseok held his breath. [y/n] must have been doing the same because she barely moved.   
He risked a glance up. He couldn’t see a face in the window, just the shadow cast by one from the outside. Breath fogged up the glass, obscuring any detail. How long were they going to stay there? Minseok tightened his arms around [y/n]; he was trying to comfort himself, as well as her. The more he focused on keeping her safe, the less he had to think about the immediate danger he was in himself.   
“Anything?” the woman asked.  
“No, it’s pitch black in there,” said the stranger. “My arms hurt, can I get down?” Minseok thought that the stranger sounded sober, steady, much more so than he had when he had joined them at the campfire earlier. He had just been clinging to that window sill, six feet off the ground, for nearly a minute. He was clearly very-much in control of himself. Whatever condition had kept him out of the army was clearly not physically impairing. Minseok thought that this was worse, somehow.   
“Is there anything in the car?” the deep-voiced man asked.   
“Breaking into the car is too risky,” said the woman. “No point in leaving a trail.”   
Minseok didn’t keep valuables in his car, but he did love it. He hadn’t considered that they might try to break into it, or steal it.   
The voices receded, back in the direction of the cars and their original camp. Minseok sat with [y/n] listening to them fade away. After a few minutes, they heard doors opening and closing, the noise of an engine starting. The crunch of gravel and then the noise of the car tearing off in the direction of the town at a speed that wasn’t legal on a road like this. Only then did Minsoek allow himself to take a deep breath. He loosened his grip on [y/n] but she didn’t move. She shook slightly. She was crying.


	8. Been Through

At some point in the night, [y/n] must have slept. She didn’t remember dozing off; she seemed to blink and suddenly the room was brighter than before, a thin light filtering through the window from the morning outside. Minseok must have pulled the sleeping bag over them while she was out. He was still holding her the way he had been since she had grabbed the bottle of water, half-sitting with his arms wrapped around her middle, her back to his chest, his chin on her shoulder. She stirred when she woke up, and he sat back, yawning.  
“When, um, did I fall asleep?” she asked, blearily.   
“A couple of hours ago,” he said. “Don’t worry, nobody came back.” He seemed to notice that he had his arms wrapped around her, and started to untangle himself. [y/n] was a little disappointed that he had let go, but her legs were cramped, and she was glad of the hand he reached down to help her stand up.   
“We should leave, before the owner shows up,” Minseok said. [y/n] nodded, then stopped.  
“What if they’re out there?” she said. Minseok climbed the stool and looked out onto the beach.   
“There’s an elderly couple down by the water, walking their dog,” he said. “And the bus is coming, I can see it. If they’re out there, well… there are witnesses.” [y/n] conceded that he had a point. She almost asked him what he thought those three - the stranger, the deep voiced man, the woman - would not want witnesses for, but decided not to pursue it. Until they were off the beach, she didn’t want to think about what those people could have possibly wanted from them. Nothing good, Minseok had said. That went without saying. Who were they, though?   
“We should go to the police,” she said suddenly, as Minseok was rolling the sleeping bag. “When your car is working again, we should go see the police nearby. Tell them what we heard last night, about the ‘last one’ and how he broke in here.”   
Minseok nodded, then smiled sheepishly.  
“They might ask why we broke in here,” he said. As if in answer, the whine of a motorcycle engine tore through the quiet morning, stuttering to a stop outside. [y/n] quickly grabbed the bedroll, just before keys rattled in the doorway.   
The owner, the woman, let out a small yelp when she opened the door to find [y/n] and Minseok inside. Too shocked to move for a second, they stared at her until Minseok regained his composure and put both of his hands up - palms facing outwards - and explained the situation. He told her that they had been stuck on the beach overnight and hadn’t felt safe staying out on the sand. He left out the part about the stranger and his friends. The woman - Ms Choi - listened warily, and then stood back, ushering them outside.   
“Sorry again,” Minseok said, as he passed her. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, handing over all of the cash he had to the woman, but she just waved him away. They walked out of the kiosk, and then Minseok turned back, fishing out a note anyway and asking Ms Choi for coffee when it was ready.   
“There was another thing,” he said, when she took the note. “We came in here because there were some strange people on the beach last night. Not… friendly, but they seemed interested in us. It was making us uncomfortable.” [y/n] felt like stressing that this was an understatement but didn’t want to interject. Minseok went on. “Is there any problem with strange people here, lately? I’ve stayed here a few times and I’ve never had any trouble.”   
Ms Choi eyed him for a second. [y/n] thought that there was something in her expression, too much for a glib answer and too unsure to answer right away. She was right.   
Ms Choi directed them to a bench-table in front of the kiosk and came out a few minutes later with coffee. She gave Minseok back his money, then sat down with them. [y/n] took a sip. It was black coffee which she hated and never drank, but it seemed impolite not to drink it if it was offered for free.   
Minseok asked Ms Choi again about seeing anybody strange on the beach.   
“I had a break-in a couple of months ago, at the end of the summer. Not like with you, they didn’t just sleep in the kiosk. Actually, how did you get in?”  
“I picked the lock,” Minseok said honestly, and Ms Choi rolled her eyes.  
“I knew that lock wasn’t strong enough. I should have had that door replaced when I bought the place, and installed a proper lock. Well, now I know.”   
Minseok shrugged apologetically.   
“Well,” she went on, “whoever broke in last time didn’t come through the door. They… they took an axe something to the wooden shutter that was over the hatch. I don’t keep cash here so nothing of value was taken, but they didn’t even trash the place. They definitely got inside, because the chair I kept in there was propped up outside the kiosk in the morning. But the damage was concentrated on the shutter. They just beat the shutter until it was in splinters. I called the police, and they came out but because nothing was stolen, they just told me to call my insurance and said they’d look into the break in but they found nothing. Then a couple of weeks later, one of my neighbours was out walking his dog on the beach in the evening and said there was a man sitting on the roof of the kiosk, just... sitting there. That kind of scared me.” Ms Choi looked down at her hands.   
[y/n]’s blood ran cold, listening to the woman talk. Senseless violence, erratic behaviour, was it the stranger, the man from the beach last night? She glanced around; what if he never went away?  
“Did you ever see anyone?” Minseok urged the woman. He must have noticed that [y/n] was starting to panic again, because he took her hand under the table and squeezed it. [y/n] concentrated on Ms Choi, trying to focus her energy away from her resurgence of fear. The woman thought for a second.  
“I closed up early last weekend. There was someone hanging around the kiosk, a man. He ordered a lot of coffee. He kept coming back to ask questions, where I was from and what the beach was like in the early summer. He asked a lot of questions about my father, like he knew who my father was. He seemed to think my father had died and left me the kiosk, but father lives in Busan.”  
“Did you tell him that?” [y/n] asked. Ms Choi shook her head firmly.   
“No,” she said. “It was like he was waiting for me to correct him by talking about my father. Like he was fishing for details. He was making me nervous, so I shut early. I haven’t seen him since.” She looked uncomfortable, and [y/n] felt a rush of sympathy for her. She was trying to run a business out here, in the middle of nowhere. She must be brave to do that, and to have to worry about people like the stranger all the time… [y/n] steeled herself. She was still reeling from the night just passed, wired from coffee and lack of sleep, but she was determined now that they should stop at a police station and report what had happened, in case the man came back and hassled Ms Choi.  
Minseok changed the subject, asking Ms Choi about the beach and the weather. She got up after a few minutes and went back to the kiosk to open properly, and by the time the sun was fully up, [y/n] had finished her coffee.   
“We can go wait in the car,” Minseok said, offering [y/n] a hand up. She took it, and he smiled shyly at her. Then he looked suddenly sad.  
“What is it?” she asked, squeezing his hand. He looked down and then out at the sea, and finally back at her.  
“I’m sor-” he started, but she cut him off.  
“Stop apologising,” she said. “Last night wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t know.”  
“But I made you stay,” he said. “You could have taken the bus back to Seoul and I stopped you.”   
“You would have been here on your own,” she said. She couldn’t argue with him; she did wish she had got on the bus, but if she had the night to do over again she would have taken him with her. He seemed about to say something else, but he just shrugged and turned in the direction of the car park. He kept hold of her hand, but he looked a thousand miles away. She wanted to bring him back.  
“This sand isn’t so hard to walk on first thing in the morning,” she pointed out.   
“No, it softens up during the day,” he said distractedly.   
“I guess you’ll have to find a new excuse,” [y/n] said, squeezing his hand. He didn’t seem to get it so she squeezed his hand again. “You can’t just tell me it’s for balance this time.”   
Minseok finally seemed to get what she was implying. He gave her a shy smile.   
“You don’t have any gloves,” he said, tucking both of their entwined hands into his pocket again.   
She was about to say something else when a familiar-looking 4x4 pulled into the car park, just as they reached the fence. It swung to a stop next to Minseok’s car, and out of the passenger-side door climbed the lanky frame of Oh Sehun. 

It should have been a relief to see someone he knew, and Minseok was mostly glad to see Sehun climbing out of Chanyeol’s car, because it meant that he could probably get his car started now. But when [y/n] pulled her hand out of his pocket and sped up, he felt a pang of regret that it was Sehun who had come to rescue them. He watched her walk away and, even though she seemed to like him, he still couldn’t shake his insecurity - was this it? Would they have this one night and when she got back to Seoul come to her senses? She stopped about two metres away and swung around to him.  
“Come on,” she said, and grabbed his hand, dragging him in the direction of the car park. He fought to hide his relieved smile. Even so, when Sehun wrapped [y/n] in a bear hug, he couldn’t help but feel a stab of jealousy even though she told him there was nothing between them. Sehun would always have been closer to her first, no matter how close Minseok got to her after. Sehun seemed to notice his attention and misinterpret it, because he let go of [y/n] and swept Minseok into a hug that lifted him off his feet.   
“Ah, let go,” he said, pushing at Sehun’s broad shoulders.   
Chanyeol climbed out of the car on the other side and came around to clap Minseok on the shoulder.   
“We’re here to rescue you,” he said, grinning like it was his job and not like he should definitely have sent a mechanic or someone who knew what they were doing. Chaneyol probably thought he knew what he was doing. Minseok smiled at him anyway, because he was happy to see someone he knew after their harrowing night.   
“You should have just told me where you were,” Sehun whined. “I had to call all of the managers to find out what was going on.”  
“I had to call all of the managers, you don’t know anyone’s number,” Chanyeol interjected. “You didn’t even know it was Minseok-hyung who called you until I checked it.” Sehun just waved dismissively at him.  
“It was my idea to call the managers, though.” Then he whirled on Minseok. “Why did you hang up on me?”, then to [y/n], “Why is your phone off?”   
Chanyeol disappeared around the back of the car, and came back holding two cables.   
“Manager-hyung said you were having trouble starting the car so I brought jump cables.”   
“I- yes. The car won’t start,” Minseok said. He was exhausted, and his brain wasn’t moving fast enough for these two. “Do you know what you’re doing with those?” Chanyeol had never shown any particular interest in cars, but Minseok wouldn’t be surprised if Chanyeol had taught himself basic car maintenance when he bought that 4x4 just so that he could say he had. Chanyeol shrugged.  
“My dad’s car used to break down a lot. I think I remember what to do.” This didn’t fill Minseok with confidence, but at least they had a second car that they could use to go find help in the town if this failed.   
“I can’t help,” Sehun declared. “Can we go get some coffee?” He slung his arm around [y/n]’s shoulders. Minseok marvelled at the ease with which he was able to do that, to touch her and be close to her without the slightest hesitation. He realised then that [y/n] had been truthful when she told him that Sehun was like a brother to her. That kind of casual intimacy wouldn’t be possible if there was anything between them.   
Sehun and [y/n] wandered off in the direction of the kiosk, and Chanyeol took charge of the situation with the car, directing Minseok to open the hood.  
Chanyeol, it turned out, did know what he was doing. Minseok stood back and watched him apply the jump cables and ground them, then sat behind his wheel and followed Chanyeol’s direction. Finally, his car started.   
“Keep the engine running for about ten minutes,” Chanyeol called from his own car. Minseok sat with the handbrake off and the engine running. He thought about what he was going to do when they got back to Seoul. That was the first obstacle - getting back.   
“We’ll wait a few minutes and check it again when the car cools down,” Chanyeol said, when Minseok was satisfied that the car would stay running. He got out and they walked to the fence together. Sehun and [y/n] were on their way back.  
“Um, you don’t have to tell me, hyung, but what are you doing out here? With [y/n]?” Chanyeol asked. Minseok felt his face get hot, but his smile was involuntary and he couldn’t hide it. Chanyeol raised his eyebrows but waited for an answer.   
“I-um- [y/n] is my girlfriend, now. I think. She said she was, or she wanted to be.” Minseok kicked at some sand on the pavement under his feet. Chanyeol seemed to be waiting for him to go on, but he didn’t know where to start. He hadn’t even told them about their harrowing night on the beach. He was just sorting his thoughts, when Chanyeol lost patience.   
“Did you come out here on a date?”   
Minseok nodded, making a noise of assent.   
“Wow, and your car broke down? That’s… hyung, that’s unfortunate.” Chanyeol clapped him on the shoulder, smiling sympathetically.   
“I can’t believe it happened. It’s bad luck. That’s not even the worst thing-”   
Sehun’s laughter cut across the beach, a high-pitched bark that was at odds with [y/n]’s face, which was thunderous. She sped up and made it to the fence before Sehun, who ran behind her calling her name.   
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he said when he reached her. He handed Chanyeol a cup, and [y/n] passed one to Minseok. She shot Sehun the kind of glance that Minseok had seen her giving the stranger last night. He hoped he was never on the receiving end of that. Sehun, it seemed, was immune because he only laughed harder. He turned to Chanyeol.  
“Did Minseok-hyung tell you this was a date? Did he tell you that [y/n] didn’t know about it?” Sehun threw his arm across Minseok’s shoulders. “She’s very slow, it’s a good thing she likes you.”   
Chanyeol barked a laugh.  
“Was that the worst thing?” he asked, turning to Minseok, who shrugged, wincing. It wasn’t the worst thing, but he didn’t want to get into that right now. He would tell them everything eventually.  
[y/n] looked like she was about to strangle Sehun, and Minseok was too sleep-deprived and still a bit too unsure of himself to know whether he should laugh along. He pushed Sehun’s arm off and went to stand next to [y/n], taking her free hand. She gave him a small smile and Minseok tried to ignore the exclamations of ‘aw cute’ from the peanut gallery.  
“Will we get going?” Chanyeol asked, looking around and clearly seeing nothing on the beach to keep his attention here long. Minseok was about to answer, when [y/n] spoke up.  
“Minseok shouldn’t drive. He didn’t sleep at all,” she said, turning towards him. “Right? You said you were awake all night.” She squeezed his hand and he was touched by her concern, like she really was his girlfriend.   
“You didn’t sleep? What happened?” Chanyeol looked around. “Where did you camp?”   
Minseok gestured in the direction of the broken camp, where his tent was still visible against the sand. He needed to go get it, but it could wait a few minutes. [y/n] was right, he probably shouldn’t drive. Which begged the question - who would drive his car? There was only one candidate, since [y/n] hadn’t slept either.   
“Sehunnie, can you drive my car back to Seoul?” he asked.   
Sehun looked put out but reluctantly nodded. Minseok stretched, wondering how comfortable his back seat would be and if he could get some sleep in after they had been to see the police. Sehun’s expression darkened even further. He pulled [y/n] to his side by her elbow. Minseok lost her hand.   
“[y/n] has to come with us,” Sehun said. [y/n] shrugged out of his grasp.  
“Of course I’m coming with you,” she said. Chanyeol made a small noise and sighed.  
“I guess I’m driving back by myself,” he said. Minseok felt a pang of guilt; Chanyeol had driven all the way out here at dawn to help him jump-start his car. Now he was making him drive back into Seoul by himself. He thought for a second and decided on a course of action.  
“I’ll go with you,” he said. [y/n] spun towards him and seemed to be about to protest, but he put his hand on her arm to stop her saying anything. “You guys will just talk the whole way back and I could really do with some sleep-”  
“Great,” Chanyeol scoffed, “so I may as well drive back by myself.” Even so, he seemed a little happier. Minseok leaned in to [y/n] and lowered his voice.  
“Just make sure my car gets back in one piece, please? Sehun might decide to go on a road trip and I won’t see it for days.” He hesitated for a second then kissed her lightly on the cheek. Sehun made a whooping noise and he had to bite his cheek to keep from hissing at him. [y/n] gave him a small smile and nodded. Then she looked panicked again.  
“What about the police?”  
“The police?” Sehun seemed to perk up. “Why do you have to go see the police?”  
“There was this weird guy on the beach last night,” [y/n] started to explain. “We think he might have broken into the kiosk over there and maybe he attacked a woman before, I don’t know, but we had to hide from him. He came back in the middle of the night and brought more people and they kept talking about finding us.” Her voice was speeding up, and Minseok could hear her panic return; he saw the way her eyes started to dart around the beach. She didn’t need to relive this again so soon. Sehun put his hand on her shoulder, concern clouding his features. [y/n] stopped talking and gave him a small smile.   
“I’ll go,” he said. “I know the beach better than you, maybe that’ll be useful.” He turned to Chanyeol. “Do you mind if we stop at the police station in the town at the other end of the bay?”   
Chanyeol shrugged. “Sure. I have to fill up the tank anyway,” he said.   
“What happened,” Sehun asked [y/n] in a quiet voice. She patted his arm.   
“I’ll tell you in the car,” she said. Sehun nodded. Minseok took [y/n]’s hand in his and squeezed it. She nodded at him, but she looked troubled still.   
They packed Minseok’s tent and the rest of his camping gear into the back of his car, and cleaned up the place where they had intended to camp. Minseok looked around for any clues the stranger might have left lying around but there was nothing. Then, he and Chanyeol waved Sehun and [y/n] off and got into the 4x4. 

There wasn’t much to tell the police. There had been no crime against Minseok and [y/n], so Minseok leaned on what they had overheard about the kiosk break-in. He mentioned the man hanging around the beach earlier, and how he had turned up later on. He made sure to mention the whiskey in case there was something they could do about drink driving, and finally he told them about the ‘other one’ they had mentioned. When he said this, the officer who was taking his statement exchanged a look with his colleague that chilled Minseok. They had some idea, then, of what he was talking about. He didn’t press them on it, but he gave them his contact details so that they could get in touch with him if anything else came up. He was glad he hadn’t brought [y/n]. She had already started to panic back at the beach before they parted, and she was sleep-deprived. He couldn’t put her through that, but he told the police her name and contact information too just in case.   
Chanyeol sat with him, listening to the statement. His big eyes got even bigger as the story went on, and when the police told them they had enough, he followed Minseok out of the station in shock.   
“Hyung,” he said, when they got to the car, catching Minseok by the shoulder. Minseok was expecting questions; he wasn’t expecting the hug. It was almost too much; he had been holding it together all night, but Chanyeol hugging him hard out of sheer concern nearly broke him. He had tears in his eyes when he finally extricated himself, patting Chanyeol awkwardly on the shoulder, and getting into the car. Chanyeol fished a blanket from the back of his car and, when he got in, handed it across to Minseok and showed him how to depress the seat. He didn’t ask any questions, didn’t say anything else, just drove them out of the car park. Minseok was asleep in ten minutes. 

Sehun asked a lot of questions. [y/n] eventually had to tell him to be quiet and listen as she recounted what had happened on the beach, from their arrival to when Sehun and Chanyeol turned up. Sehun accompanied her with noises both appropriate and otherwise, wolf-whistling when she told him about kissing Minseok on the sand, and gasping at all the right points when she told him what the stranger had said. When she was finally finished, he launched into his questions again, but at least this time they were more focused.   
“What was in the black sacks in his car?” (She didn’t know, Minseok didn’t check).  
“Was he actually drunk?” (She didn’t think so).  
“Was he young or old?” (It was hard to tell, late-30s at least?).  
“Did you recognise him? From the news or anything?” (No).  
“What if he was an escaped murderer?” ([y/n] thought they would have heard about that).  
“What about the older man and the woman, what did they look like?” (They didn’t see them).  
“How long do you think hyung has liked you for?”   
That last one was a bit of a shock, and she had to take a second to think about it.   
“I don’t know,” she said. “He seemed sure that I knew we were on a date… I thought maybe you had told him I liked him.” She nudged Sehun gently with her elbow but he put up the hand that wasn’t holding the steering wheel up in a gesture of honesty.  
“I had no idea,” Sehun said, and she believed him. “But he’s impossible to read. So I understand how you didn’t know it was a date. He probably phrased it like-” he pitched his voice in what he probably thought was an impression of Minseok, “‘Let’s hang out sometime’, like he always does when he wants to make plans but doesn’t want to inconvenience anyone.” [y/n] nudged Sehun again.   
“That’s mean, don’t impersonate him,” she said. Sehun giggled and apologised formally. [y/n] rolled her eyes.   
“Anyway, can we get back to the matter at hand - the murderer?”  
“Yes,” Sehun said, schooling his features to seriousness. “He is definitely a murderer.”   
[y/n] remembered her phone and pulled it out. She could charge it, now she was back in the car, as long as she had a cable. She opened Minseok’s glovebox. It was pristine, the only thing in there was the car manual, some stacked CDs, and a very neatly rolled cable for an iPhone that wouldn’t work with her Android. She cursed quietly.  
“Sehun give me your phone.” She held out her hand expectantly. Sehun looked at her hand and shrugged.  
“I forgot my phone,” he said. She gaped at him.   
“What kind of grown man forgets his phone in this day and age? How am I supposed to look up unsolved murders in the area?” She threw up her hands in frustration. She turned back to Sehun. “Did you steal Chanyeol’s phone, before you left him?”   
Sehun pouted. “Why do you always think the worst of me?”  
“Did you?”  
“Yes,” he said, but then continued in the same whiny, aggrieved voice- “but he took it from me before we left the beach. He said he needed it. Isn’t that selfish?”   
They continued to discuss theories all the way back into Seoul. When Sehun pulled up in front of her apartment complex, she blinked out the window for a few seconds, confused.  
“Why are we here?” she asked.  
“You live here,” he pointed out helpfully.  
“I know,” she said, “but shouldn’t you return Minseok’s car?” She didn’t release her seatbelt.  
“I’ll go there now,” Sehun said. “Get out, please.” He leaned across and she thought he was about to do the cheesy thing from dramas where someone released your seatbelt for you, but instead he was giving her a hug. “I’m happy you’re safe. You should sleep.”   
She still didn’t move. She had told Minseok she would make sure that Sehun didn’t drive off with his car. And… she wasn’t ready to go home yet. She wanted to know what had happened at the police station. And she was worried Minseok might have changed his mind, once they were out of the crisis situation. She wanted to see him. She sat back in her seat.  
“Go to Minseok’s now,” she said. “Neither of us has a phone, so I’ll wait for him until he gets back and give him the keys.”   
Sehun stared at her for a second and then shook his head.  
“Wow,” he said, but he started the ignition anyway.   
“What?” [y/n] asked defensively.  
“You have it bad,” he said, and laughed. [y/n] felt her face get hot but she couldn’t argue with him.


	9. Falling For You

She didn’t remember falling asleep. Or, [y/n] remembered that she lay down on the couch for a few minutes because she couldn’t think of anything else to do in Minseok’s apartment, but it was suddenly dark, and there was a blanket over her. She blinked; the noise that had woken up sounded again. It was a ‘ding’... a familiar ‘ding’. She opened her eyes and saw her phone on the coffee table, screen illuminated. A red charging cable extended from it.   
“Oh,” she said. A crash in the kitchen made her jump and she sat up and looked around.  
The apartment was dark, but it wasn’t as late as she thought. It was snowing outside. Thick flakes of snow drifted past the windows, and the whole world outside was turning white.   
“Oh,” she said again.  
“You’re awake,” Minseok called from the kitchen. [y/n] stood up. The blanket dropped away from her. It was soft, blue tartan, and looked brand new. She folded it carefully and padded into the kitchen.   
“Hi,” Minseok said over his shoulder. He was standing at the sink, rinsing dishes and stacking them in the dishwasher. “I didn’t have time to do this yesterday.”   
“Do you need some help?” she asked.   
“No, it’s fine,” he said. He peeled off his rubber gloves and turned to face her. He still looked tired, but he had showered and changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt. His black hair was still wet, swept back from his face. He smiled at her, a hint of nervousness still hanging around the edges.  
“How long was I- or, when did you get here? I- we didn’t have a phone, so I stayed to give you your car keys.” [y/n] gestured uselessly in the direction of the dining table, where she had placed the keys after she let herself into the apartment with the code. Sehun, it seemed, had memorised it and she thought she ought to tell Minseok in case he came home one night to find Sehun on his couch. That had probably happened already. Did Minseok even know how to change the door code? She made another mental note to teach him how to change the door code. But the car keys, she had rearranged them six times because she realised then that she had nothing else to do. Then she sat down on the couch and apparently fell asleep for-  
“Three hours, a bit longer, but I think you were here for a while before I got home,” he smiled at her, blushing a little. She didn’t know which question this directly answered. “I thought I’d let you sleep, since you were already out. You did kind of wake up when I came in, do you remember?”   
“No…” [y/n] went cold all over. “Did I say anything?” Minseok shoved his hands in his pockets and looked down, smiling to himself. When he looked up at her, eyebrows raised, she knew she had said something. She felt herself blush and realised that she didn’t want to know what it was. Not yet.  
“You were half-asleep,” Minseok said diplomatically, though the way he was looking at her, archly with a hint of suggestion, told her that she had at least made sense to him.   
[y/n]’s throat was dry. Whatever she had said in her sleep, the look he was giving her now was a thousand times removed from the shy Minseok of their date. Whatever she had said to him had given him confidence. This was his stage persona, the confident Minseok she’d had a glimpse of back on the beach. Being looked at by that Minseok felt like being attacked. He changed the subject.   
“I like that- I mean, I don’t mind- that you’re here, it’s gr-fine, but how did you get in?”   
“Door code,” she said. “Sehun told me.”  
“Ah… Sehunnie knows my door code?” That answered that question. [y/n] just shrugged.   
“I saw your phone on the table and plugged it in,” he went on, “I hope you don’t mind. I used the charging cable for my headphones.” he seemed inordinately pleased with himself for identifying the correct cable for her phone. [y/n] felt like she needed to lie down again; his switch from cute to sexy to cute again was too much.  
“Um, thanks,” she muttered. An awkward silence opened up. Minseok still had his hands in his pockets and seemed to be looking around for something to say. [y/n] thought that it was probably time she went home, but if she left now, she might lose her nerve. She wanted to know what had happened with the police. She wanted to talk to him about last night, about the horror part and also about the part before it had all gone wrong. Their date might fade into an anecdote, and maybe he would never ask her out again. She didn’t want to go. So, she led with that.  
“I don’t want to go home,” she blurted out. Minsoek looked up at her in surprise. Had she misread him? No, he was smiling. She smiled too.   
“Are you hungry?” he asked. Her face must have betrayed her because he quickly added, “I’m not cooking. We can order food. Pizza? Or I can go out and-”   
“No,” she said quickly. She was tired of him walking away and leaving her alone. “No, lets order in. Pizza is great.” Minseok was grinning; if he was this happy, why didn’t he suggest this yesterday, instead of driving her to Murder Beach? She didn’t say this; she was grinning stupidly too.   
“You can take a shower if you want, and there’s clothes in the spare room. You can take whatever you like. If you want to change. You don’t have to. I don’t mean that you need to shower. Didn’t you come straight here? You’re still dressed the same,” he said all this with increasing pace, and [y/n] couldn’t help but laugh.   
“I’d like to take a shower, if that’s okay,” she said.   
“Okay. I’ll order the pizza. Maybe… do you want to watch a movie?”   
“Yes please,” she said. Before she lost her nerve, she stepped forward and kissed him lightly on the cheek. Then she left the room before he saw how red her face was. 

Minseok had been reasonably well-rested by the time he let himself into the apartment three hours earlier. Chanyeol had let him sleep on the drive back, shaking him gently awake only when they were outside his building. He had thanked Chanyeol for driving out to the beach and helping jump start the car, and promised to buy him a meal soon. He checked on his car before making his way up to the apartment, and when he found [y/n] asleep on the couch inside he was more touched than alarmed. Again, it struck him how comfortable he was with her being in his apartment, letting herself in, sleeping on his couch. After getting her the blanket and their brief half-awake conversation, he had gone to bed for a couple of hours too. When he woke up, she was still asleep so he had taken a shower, changed, and was cleaning the mess he had left in the kitchen from the day before when she woke up.   
When she said she wanted to stay, spend the evening with him, it had been a struggle not to punch the air, or hug her. He thought that he probably should have hugged her but by the time he thought this through, the moment had passed. When she kissed him on the cheek and left him to go shower, he had stood in the middle of the room touching his face where her lips had made contact for a full minute before he realised what he was doing and went back to cleaning the kitchen.   
He was just done when she finished in the shower, and was sitting at the table ordering food on his phone. He looked up without thinking and caught a glimpse of her bare shoulders over the towel she had wrapped around her body before he quickly looked away, face burning. He considered knocking on the door and letting her know where exactly the spare clothes were in the wardrobe, but the thought of her opening the door in just that towel made his throat dry. He shook his head and looked down at his phone again, completing the food order. He wondered if she might be uncomfortable since he didn’t have spare underwear she could change into and then had to take a deep breath. Why was he thinking about her underwear? Maybe having her in the apartment wasn’t such a good idea after all; he was completely losing whatever cool he thought he had. He pushed his hair back and swore at himself under his breath.   
Then she stepped out of the spare bedroom in one of his long-sleeved t-shirts and a pair of patterned drawstring pants and he forgot everything else. Her hair was still damp and hung loose over one shoulder. She looked-  
“Cute,” he said before he could stop himself. She looked up in surprise and all he could do was look away, ears burning. He thought she had smiled, though.   
“I ordered the food, but they said there might be a delay because of the snow. Do you want something to drink?” He stood up.  
“Do you have any tea?” she asked, looking around. She saw her phone and walked over to pick it up, then came back to the table and sat down.  
“Yes,” Minseok went into the kitchen and found the box of tea he had bought specifically for her after the last time she stayed here, after Chuseok. She had asked for tea then and been disappointed that he only had black coffee. He remembered something else. “I can make a latte, if you want one of those instead?” he called.  
“Oooh, yes please,” came her answer, and he busied himself making her coffee. He steamed milk while the coffee filtered, mixed a teaspoon of vanilla syrup into the coffee before he poured over the milk, then brought it out to her. She looked at the coffee for a second, and tasted it. Her expression was unreadable.  
“Is that okay?” he asked, twisting his hands, suddenly unsure.  
“This- yes,” she said. She grinned at the coffee and then at him, and he sat down again, satisfied. His own coffee was cold but he didn’t want to get up again while she was sitting with him.   
“What happened at the police station?” she asked, snapping him back to the present.   
“Ah.” He talked her through what he had told the police, about the stranger and how they had been unsettled by him when he turned up (an understatement). When he got to the part where the police had exchanged looks, she started to nod vigorously.  
“I knew it,” she said. “There was something weird about what he said about the ‘last one’. Sehun agreed with me, definite murderer vibes. Did they say anything else?”  
Minseok shook his head and she looked disappointed. Then she picked up her phone and started searching.  
“Let’s look and see if there were any recent disappearances-”  
“[y/n],” Minseok said gently, reaching out and covering her phone screen so she would look at him. “Why don’t you take a break from thinking about this? It’s not even been a day.”   
He wondered if he had gone too far, because her face dropped. But then she shook her head and moved his hand from the screen. She didn’t let go of it.   
“I need to think it through,” she said quietly. “If I don’t, if I stop and think about what actually happened…” she shuddered. “I was useless last night. This makes me feel like I can do something. Just, let’s just do this for a little while, okay? It’ll make me feel better.”   
Minseok wasn’t sure, but he didn’t want to deny her anything. It made sense that she would want to take control of her actions now, even if he wanted to put it behind them, if only just for tonight. So he just nodded, then brought her his laptop so she could look it all up on a bigger screen. When the door buzzed announcing the arrival of the pizza, she was curled into the corner of the couch under his blanket, looking through crime reports for the last two years for the area around Moraedeok Beach. The snow was coming down heavier by then, and Minseok had put the fire on. He had sat next to her, listening to her reasoning as she skimmed reports in newspapers.   
“Have you thought about becoming a cop?” Minseok asked, getting up to answer the doorbell. [y/n] blinked up at him and even though it had been an offhand comment, she seemed to seriously consider his question.  
“I thought about it,” she said, but didn’t expand on that, and just shrugged. Minseok collected the pizza from the door and brought it into the living room, setting it down on the coffee table, then went to fetch plates and water, and some beer for himself. By the time he got back, [y/n] had already helped herself to a slice and was scrolling fixedly down a page. He smiled to himself; she was good at making herself at home. He loved that she was making herself at home with him. He set a plate and a napkin down next to her and then took his own slice and sat down to see what she had found.  
“There hasn’t been anything on this beach lately, apart from the kiosk break in,” she said, like they were picking up a conversation he had dropped out of. “But a woman reported a guy for following her home a few times in the town nearby, just four months ago. Sometimes one man, sometimes two, and once a woman. No one was charged because they were never caught, but the police issued a warning that people take extra care.”  
“What about the ‘last one’ he mentioned?” Minseok felt himself getting into this; [y/n]’s zeal was infectious. She shook her head.  
“If a woman disappeared, it wasn’t from there. I’ll need to broaden the search.” She shut the laptop. “But not tonight.” She reached forward and took another slice of pizza. “Are we watching a movie?” Minseok nodded and picked up his remote. “A thriller?” she asked, hopefully. Minseok, however, was determined to put a pin in the terrifying situation that had ruined their first date.   
“Let’s… let’s watch something fun. Or cute. A cartoon. Just for tonight?” He looked at her imploringly and she shrugged.  
“Okay,” she said. “Let’s watch something fun then.”   
“It’s snowing so… Frozen?” He glanced at her sidelong and winked. “My people,” he said, and she giggled like he was actually funny and not cheesy.   
“How about The Phantom Menace?” she said, only half serious. He looked at her for a long moment, then shrugged.  
“Okay...” he said, unsure. [y/n] fixed him with a look.  
“Minseok, I know you care about Star Wars but you have to view the prequels as comedy. If you watch them seriously, then yeah they will be ridiculous. You will get angry. But if you watch them as they were intended to be watched - as a joke - then you’ll be happier. I promise.”  
Minseok played with his hands nervously. “Will I get your joke?” he asked.  
“Yes,” [y/n] chuckled. “It’s such a stupid joke, though. It’s fine that you didn’t get it.”  
Minseok searched through the streaming service until he found the first prequel movie.   
“You said it,” he said quietly, not looking at her. “It can’t be stupid.”   
They finished the pizza while the movie started.   
Halfway through, Minseok paused to clear away the pizza boxes and plates, and go get more drinks and some snacks. When he got back, [y/n] lifted the blanket, inviting him to sit next to her. He didn’t even hesitate this time, tired of second-guessing himself. He stretched his arm around her shoulder as he sat so she was curled into him. He adjusted the blanket so it covered them both properly. Before he could start the movie again, [y/n] nudged him.   
“Minseok,” she said, her voice quiet and unsure.   
“Mmmh?”  
“What did I say? When you came in earlier and I was asleep.”  
Minseok thought about it. He was glad she couldn’t see his face from this angle, the way he couldn’t help smiling. It had been nice, coming home to find her asleep on his couch. He hadn’t even wondered how she had got in, he was just happy she was there. He had gone to fetch her a blanket and when he came back she had been propped up on one elbow, blinking slowly at him. It was clear that she was over-tired, probably not fully-awake.  
“Go back to sleep,” he had whispered, unfolding the blanket and draping it over her. She had nodded slowly and put her head back down. He tucked the blanket in and tried to move away but she had stopped him.  
“Minseok, don’t go away again,” she had said. He turned slowly and crouched down so he was eye-level with her.  
“I’ll be here. Sleep a bit longer,” he said softly.  
“Don’t go away again, please.”  
Minseok smiled at her, even though her eyes were closed. It didn’t matter that she was half-asleep and probably talking nonsense, he loved that she wanted him to stay with her.  
“I’m right here,” he assured her. He made to stand but she spoke again, voice still heavy with sleep.  
“Minseok, am I still your girlfriend?” she said. He let the question hang for a second, unsure how to answer.  
“If you want to be,” he had said gently. She nodded, like what he had just said was fact.  
“I want to be your girlfriend,” she mumbled. “You’re nice and good. And beautiful. Minseok,” she opened her eyes slightly and looked straight at him. “You are so beautiful.” She shut her eyes again; it was adorable. Minseok felt himself blush even though she was clearly only half-awake. Was she even conscious enough to remember this later? He reached out and pulled the blanket up around her shoulders. She was still wearing his scarf.  
“You’re beautiful too,” he whispered. Then he had left her until she woke up.  
Did he tell her now, what she said when she was asleep? All of it?  
“You said you wanted to be my girlfriend,” he said.  
“Ah,” she said, and she sounded relieved that she hadn’t said anything else. He would tell her, eventually, everything else she had said. Not right now, though, because he could feel his ears turning red just thinking about it. When she didn’t say anything else, he nudged her.   
“Yes?” she glanced up at him nonchalantly.   
“Do you? Do you want to be my girlfriend?” He didn’t mean it to sound as unsteady as it came out, but - even as he was on his couch with her, his arm wrapped around her body, her legs curled into his own, even though she was wearing his clothes and hadn’t once expressed any interest in leaving his company - even so, he wanted to hear it from her just once, when they weren’t in a crisis situation or she wasn’t half asleep. He wanted to stop doubting. When she laughed, he felt his stomach drop, but then she turned her face up to his and put her hand on his cheek, pulling him down towards her. She kissed him like it wasn’t just the second time they had kissed, like it was the most natural thing in the world. He kissed her back because this was all he ever wanted to do when he was with her. She wrapped her arms around his middle and he brought his other arm around to encircle her completely. Eventually, when she drew back from him, she grinned at him and shook her head.   
“For the last time,” she said, nestling her head into his chest, under his chin, turning to face the TV again, “yes.”


End file.
